Season of an eating disorder - Eefa Yasir Jauhary
Summer
Bright rays collide with my flesh
Making their way through my skin
Bones feast on the warmth
Atrocious music, ice cream
My ears invaded by others’ bliss
My father hands my aching stomach
A cone of a thousand calories
Chocolate oozes against their fingertips
Scarlet, through mine
Their smiles glow
The mirror is my own transgression
My sin is the obsession staring back
A fight to free my insides
But only bones remain within
Mother’s love bleeds through her cherry pies
Her love, her naïveté
Now cold and seeping sweet crimson
Lust I indulge in, necessity turned serpentine
Done with food, craving for an edge
Elephantine thighs
Attack the blade.
Autumn
My stomach is an alarm clock
Churns, half wakes up the house
Hush now, hush now
We must not let them know
The trees cry
When the wind blows
Death surrounds me
The tears have found a new home
Brushing against the concrete
Weightless as they fall
Just as I wish to be
The branches
Naked, still, empty
My reflection
Stepping on death so carelessly
Chlorophyll weeps as their bones shatter
It used to be a game for us
Crack the bones they would say
Their secrets and juvenile giggles
“This stays between us”
My secret? Only with myself
Friends, they glide into the autumn haze
Poundage shackles me to the ground
I don’t ask them to come back for me
They should have never soared away.
Winter
Cracks on the window
Beats of my heart not yet still
Only water running through my blood stream
Still as stout as ever
The cold wraps around my bulk
Goosebumps protrude from my skin
Fighting for an escape
Stomach craves for warmth
Two spoons of mud in milk
Happiness in a poison cup.
Spring
Dahlias arise
Zombies from the grave
Shades of colors stab my eyes
My lips have turned blue.
Mother’s daffodils in a fight
With the ground,
Life sprouting
Efflorescence of tulips
Obtrudes from their flowerbeds
Ready for being
The world is trying to show me hues
Of already blossomed blues,
Whites and pinks
My color, the dreaded red.
Gone are the days of bouquets of lilies
Chocolates, and rose-colored glasses
The craving for touch
I only want a blade
Aching in my body
Warning me of my own fragility
Dandelions freed with one blow.
Contributor's Note
Eefa Yasir Jauhary is a lover of all things feminine, and yet is oddly fascinated by darker themes which she explores in her writing. A poet since young and hopefully a published author in the future, Eefa spends most of her time painting, writing or indulging in the latest happenings in pop culture.