curled up i sat in a bleached

hospital bed

frightened like never before

listening to the doctor 

tell a nine year old girl that she had

broke her arm 

 

“am i going to get to wear a cast to school?”

she asked excitedly

“i am afraid so” 

he said

and she squealed contently 

as if she had been elected for

class president 

 

then it was my turn and

he sauntered between the

curtain armed with a 

dour nurse

 

the nurse said 

“let’s give it another try” and

i cried out 

NO NO

hugging my beloved stuffed animals and

knitting needles

 

i was a naive fifteen year old 

in the body of a 

wretched

look-obsessed

decrepit and

malnourished ten year old

feeding myself off delusions and

living for a 

death sentence

 

 

putting on their best tenacious and

reassuring faces

they insisted that it would

‘work’ this time

and started to snake the slender

token of courage

endless white

legendary

foreign object up my nose

and then i felt it slither down my throat

 

i was indignant and

aggravated with my 

obvious acquiescence 

because i trusted my 

stubborn decaying brain

that told me i was an exception to the 

input-output rule of survival

 

the perfect girl would have thrown a fit and

stamped her feet and insisted that she could eat 

on my own but instead i just meekly

sat there and cried

 

the next day they attached me to a pole that held

the repulsive sac of nourishment/life but

possessed my pride because it was proof 

that i had for once

hooked up

 

amidst my innocent solipsism

little did i know that i was simply

prey of another 

banal love affair