skin and bones (about a girl named courteny)

her skin was like ice cream, pale and smooth, stretched across her fragile bones with scarce a ripple.

i sat like a bump on the log. we faced each other. i cleared my throat, her big eyes became bigger, expecting, waiting for me to try to sympathize. for my sad attempt at understanding her sad situation.

so tiny, a breath of air could have blown her over.

my voice began pouring out memories. it seemed like only yesterday i sat in her skin, stretched over my bones, refusing to eat. food was my enemy; i would die to be thin. was there anything more to life?

night after night, measuring my wrists, feeling my ribs, content for the rumblings in my concave stomach.

her mouth opened slightly in shock. i’d struck a nerve. i’d stepped into her life, and pulled out the obvious: she was not unique in this endeavour.

together, we sat still, feeling kindred behind bony bars. our stomachs growled in unison. my eyes full of tears, i begged her to eat the food enslaving her. one mouthful at a time.

she nodded, head down, tear falling. and behind her skin and bones, a soul began to breathe.

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3 Comments

  1. abbagirl74 said,

    June 8, 2007 at 2:39 am

    Roles reversed over time. Striking the nerve was necessary. Keep your head up Em. I am praying for you.

  2. Melanie said,

    June 9, 2007 at 4:42 am

    Em,
    this is powerful. I am thankful that you had the opportunity to share your story with this precious girl. May your story continue to touch and inspire other women.

    love you! Mel

  3. Teneale said,

    June 19, 2007 at 10:53 pm

    It is so hard to stare at those girls and see yourself in their eyes. I’ve been there too Em. I’ve felt the struggle between remembering who I was and who I’ve become. As bad as that time was in our lives, we can use it for good, becuase it takes one to understand one. Love you.


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