Feminine Markings

Rose, chestnut, peach, plum,

Smearing the spongy whiteness

Like paint a fresh page.

 

A.N. I wasn’t sure if this would be too controversial to post, but I decided that part of its excitement is that the aspect of womanhood that it depicts is one not (certainly by myself) come across too often in literature; I really enjoyed writing it because of this uniqueness and the dynamic perspective that it gave me on quite a mundane event. Haikus are amongst my favourite poetic forms because they have such simple rules, yet these same rules embellish what may be, like Feminine Markings, a single sentence.

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Trapped

I, snarled in thick limbs,

Cried myself to sleep last night.

Can you see the salt?

 

A.N. The story behind this haiku is greatly personal, but I would like to share it on here as both an explanation of the words and a record for myself. I composed it as I fell asleep the day my psychologist had told me that I would have to keep gaining weight to be at a lower risk of relapse despite being a ‘healthy’ weight, albeit at the very bottom of the range. I must have known, deep down, that this would happen, but I held out hope, and even tried to argue against it. That night, hyperaware of the extra fat my body had accumulated, I broke down. That’s what EDs do to you, I realise: make it seem like a couple of numbers on a scale and vital body fat are the end of the world.