Collar Bones

Collar Bones

I can recall once the memory of her eyes, disappointment.
Overflowing with the overwhelming decisions,
just bring her downstairs and place
This body on the scale
This body only aged by a simple eight years.
This body she couldn't control,
The body she wished was her own...

I didn't realize I was fat.

Didn't realize I was different,
Only once I saw in the mirror
My eyes at eight years old couldn't understand what was wrong with me.
My eyes at 17 have a memory of her eyes, disappointment.

Disappointment in the fact I myself
Failed to realize I wasn't identical,
To the other frail bodies,
The other thin bodies,
The other girls my age, reflecting a high motabolism,
Reflecting, collar bones.

Never once my attention paid to the fact my collar bones weren't visible.

The idealistic image of beauty,
Etched into my brain, the artist's pallet.
Let's take a brain, let's take a body,
Let's separate them.
These demographics I couldn't comprehend at the age of eight-
I didn't realize,
I needed to see,
Collar bones in my reflection. 

I didn't realize I needed to see collar bones in this reflection.

Any day, another weight.
Everyday, more weight.
More weight,
more waiting on these things I couldn't alter as fast as she wanted me to,
These things I couldn't change at the rapid pace.
She needed to see immediate results,
When all I wanted, was to erase the memory.
Erase the memory, of her eyes still etched into my brain,
The artist's pallet,
Reflecting disappointment,

Soon I began to see in my reflection,
Someone who's happiness depreciating by day.
Disappointment in myself,
Sick of not being enough,
When all I was trying to be was enough,
Honestly from the beginning I thought I already was enough-

But I guess, I was wrong.

She took this brain,
She took my body.
She separated them, only to please her visuals.

She had to see my collar bones.
For in a sense, my collar bones were a way of determining what I could amount to-
For in every sense, my collar bones were the visual connection between my soul,
and the physical fabric of my being.

When I began to observe my body,
That was the day all of who I truely was as a child deceased.
Being the pleaser I am,
I amended my soul.
I revised my ways, I changed.
So she could see, my collar bones.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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