Bones to me used to mean jutting bones. Too-skinny. I wished my bones (hipcollarribschest, wristspineshoulderblades) would jut. To say...? I would guess: "I have anger in my belly like emptiness; I don't believe any of this is ever going to be okay."
I lay in bed with my thumbs on my hipbones listening to minutes pass(thumbs left scars, not many still to see).
Bones mean different for me now. I want skin and fat around them, but I want to know where they are too. Bones are: memory, things that don't hurt anymore. My center, the parts of me which are inalienable. "To the bones." What holds me up and together. My Ellie and I lined two of our prettier bones with stars—me to remind my fingers of her and of strength(our strength).
I have this odd habit now of pounding my hipbones lightly with the fleshy end of a fist when I'm thinking hard. You can echolocate your way around a waist this way: flesh, flesh, flesh, bone. There is one point which if you hit just on, it thumps down to your marrow.
A little bruise there....I don't know why, but it reassures me.
Do you write poetry? This could easily be turned into a lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteJennifer
On the inside I wish I was skinny, I'm not i'm actually really close to being over weight now...grr. I try not to think about it and cut back on how much I eat but my lack of exercise isn't really helping.. I won't become bulimic mainly because I will do everything in my power not to throw up...I've only thrown up maybe on 5 different occasions in my life time. I don't hit my bones but i'll grab my fat rolls or pull at my skin to see a better out line...or just cry
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Jennifer - I do write poetry! This post was just a collection of thoughts off the top of my head which seemed best suited to prose, but I think I may see how they would fare in verse. Thank you for the idea!
ReplyDeletepinkapplecore - Oh darling. I have been there--I gained twenty or twenty-five pounds second semester of freshman year and was officially overweight by the time I got home, and I know, trying to lose weight is a terrible thing to have on one's mind. I think I'm going to have to write more about that. Peace, lovely heart.
This reminds me of this:
ReplyDeletehttp://onepartgypsy.wordpress.com/2009/10/28/dancer/
But there is a beauty about this. When you publish your first book of poetry and prose, I'll be the first to place an order <3
Gabi - Oh! Thank you for that link. And thank you for your support. <3
ReplyDeleteyeah can you just write a book already so i can buy it?
ReplyDeleteErin - :D I'm working on something to make on Blurb, but you guys make me want to take longer on it...
ReplyDeletei find this lovely (and i've reread it a few times)
ReplyDeletebut it -- almost -- always! reminds me of self-harm! bruises! :(