Two Heart pt.2

I apparently have more complaining to do, alas.

For it truly is complaining, but I'll start you with a poem:

The Umbrella

The Broken Umbrella collapsed

and sputtered in the summer storm.

Those frightful metal limbs flailing

toward the heavens, begging redemption

for this new condition. This disease

wracking scrawny arms and bending them

in contortionistically pretzel-like ways.

It wheezes and puffs up, the black nylon

lizard, rearing its neck spines in all

manner of directions.

-

The dripping puddles at its feet

sound like jingling laughter

as echoes play on the drain pipes,

twinkle metallically in the gutters.

The sick animal claws the streets

and blows down the alleyway

with a swift kick from the winds,

a taunting jab not unlike

those given by school-child bullies.

-

The Umbrella sits in a pool of

chilly afternoon rain,

coughing as it flaps its forlorn

wings like the bird it is not,

awkwardly reaching to the clouds,

metal spindly fingers grasping

to rise up and

Pop!

into a dome again.

It remembers what it feels like to be

helpful.

There.

Now I can complain, knowing that at least I have given you something.

This is as vain as one can be, but I must say it at least once.

I want to be skinny.

Like really, horribly bad.

And people are always preaching that

"love your body" shit.

How can I even consider that when

all the cute clothes stop at size what, 10?

How can I love my body when even the girls

in the commercials about that shit are a size fucking 6.

I know why people become anorexic,

I can totally understand that.

It's media pressure,

it's your own pressure,

it's peers and everyone else.

I get it.

And don't tell,

but I sometimes wish I had the guts

to start fasting and

exercising like a crazed person.

I try.

I swear, some part of me is making a conscious effort.

It's just not showing.

And sometimes I get frustrated because of these things

and I'll eat the bad stuff you shouldn't eat,

I'll try very hard to try harder.

It's no fun being fat.

I can speak from experience.

You don't look good in anything,

you hate seeing photos of yourself,

you don't even like looking in the mirror.

I envy the girls who love their bodies.

I also envy the skinny people, naturally.

And it fills me up with frustration and anguish.

I don't try hard enough.

I've got to put more effort into it.

But I've got nobody to hold me to it.

my will bends too easily.

I don't think I shall ever be skinny.

My smallest hope is that I will someday be ok

with that knowledge.