Marrow

April 06, 2016




Inside out
empty words heaped
overflowing my corning wear 
teenage comprehension

I put the words
reluctantly 
in my mouth 
while you watched me
chew
through sinew
and gristle
and shame
until you would leave
your cigarette clinging
to the cracked corner of your lip

I never swallowed
just hid my secrets
in white Dixie napkins
clenched between
 the three finger
thigh gap

Outside in
labels on 
sneakers
and skin tight jeans
you insisted
We couldn’t afford

Instead
You laid me down
on the sanitary tabloid paper
and zipped me up
in a comfortable
yet fashionable
diagnosis


I learned
how to scrape
the marrow 
from a weightless
milk fed
ideal

I sought
sanctuary
in dexatrim 
and posthumous
doctors orders
that left 
my spine
twisted and thrashing
on the concrete floor

It was here
I could hear
the words
they were not hers
but my own
bottom
calling me
up

I grew
out from the ovule
buried 
deep
in
living 
breathing
beautiful
being

now

I trace
the space
between
costae 
along clavicle curve

and

I swallow













Inspired by the NaPoWriMo 2016 #5 prompt to write a poem about food 
Image: Marrow Sprouts 

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