My mind crumbling,
Body trembling,
Tears that can’t be repressed.
Shouting matches over,
Dinner plates. Doctors with disappointment,
On their face. Mother pacing,
So much there’s no chance of rest.

Missed birthdays and dates.
Lies on the phone. Fear,
Of being caught out and
I want to scream.
But I stay silent.
Emotions too much,
Of a burden, little do I know,
Worry has already overtaken.

The balancing act, between,
My instincts to survive, get well or,
Just fade into black.
Psychologists and doctors, they possess
The knowledge. But,
Listening is key.
I need to want action.

My commitment,
To change to confront
What I’m like now, how far
I still have to go.
Balancing on a knife edge, backwards
Then forwards again, still
Pushing along.

Between you and the doctors
Who just want you well and,
You want that too but,
Complying’s so hard and.
You don’t want to fail.

The stability you feel,
As you begin to get well.
The plan is working, slowly.
You gain parts of yourself,
Back. And new ones appear,
Maybe the black won’t last forever.

Except now
You’re not. You’re growing,
And not just in the size
Of your thighs, but
In life and ambition and
Friends and laughs. Maybe,
Just maybe, the fragility
Won’t last.



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