Tag Archives: depression

eating is hard sometimes

this morning I woke up and I ate coffee

but that wasn’t really food so I ate

three small potatoes.

I drove on a long highway

and thought about eating but I didn’t.

then I went home and I ate

an entire order of breadsticks

which sounds very enjoyable¬†but it wasn’t

because I thought about every single breadstick

while I ate.

not in a cherishing sort of way but in a dreading sort of way

and I thought about the bread inside of my body

and I quickly thought about how happy I was to not be gluten free

and then I thought for a long time about my dad

and how he would comment on my weight

when I would help myself to seconds

and I thought about when I stopped helping myself to seconds

because I didn’t want my weight to be commented on anymore

then I thought about when I was on Zoloft

and how I didn’t eat anything for three days except for an apple.

I had never enjoyed food so much in my life

I had never hated food so much in my life


Turbulent Wavelengths

if we meet and I seem mute,

it is because I am trapped

beneath crashing waves, in a rip tide

that swimming techniques can’t¬†release me from


a pearl has been stuck in my throat since birth

creamy light rarely reflected

against my tongue, in quiet spaces

a shore is a gift unknown to me

but if ever I am graced with it’s broken landscape

I am pounded by dust devils

of shell and seaweed


like the sulking pier,

releasing barnacle ridden scripts

into shark infested waters

inviting a sunfish to take my place

for a sacrificial rite

moored for nights under moonlight

folding my entire being into

the natural order of a seascape silhouette


may hope follow the wake

through estuaries curtailing what proceeded

our linguistic bobbing

that first caused this muddy mess

ahead, in the dunes

a flock of gulls lifts the arching sunlight

in a dance of the daytime