Poem: Brown Metal Garbage Can

Sometimes we can only do so much,
That metal garbage can,
In the middle of my dorm room,
In Wisconsin,

Harboring fate,
I'm breathing,
But I check my pulse,
It beats,

The time warp I was in,
Distant of some past,
Heaviness of generational wounds,

Unknown force,
Forced upon me,
It was dark,
An uncomprehending force,

While I lay in my bed,
Pick at my thighs,
My skin turns red,
Because I pinch my skin,
The redness,
Pain inside,

While I lay in my bed,
The springs hurt my hips,
Hurt my hips,

I didn't want food,
I ached for something in my heart,
A longing that brought me back through the darkness,
Through a long dark night,

Old smells,
Old energy,
I had to barrel through,

That day when I realized my eating disorder had a grip on me,
I still stood on my eating disorder pedestal,
While demons whispered into my ear,
About how I could hurt myself more,
When really the demons were my souls wounds,
Pain I ran from,
Ran from fast,

Now my hands grip my thighs again,
I lay in the bed,
White walls,
Window to the outside,
Students outside,
I feel so isolated,
So alone,

My legs itch,
Extreme hyperactivity,
Due to nutritional deficiencies,
Chemical imbalances,
Music is dark,

I lift myself from the bed,
Leave boldly,
Leave fiercely,
I bound across the campus,
My mind,
My body,
My spirit,

Somehow the fine precision of my soul,
The yearning to heal beneath the rubble,
I make my way,
Not perfectly,
I wanted to forget the brown metal garbage can,

Collecting pieces of my soul,
To be whole.