you have cuts on your hands carved by your own fingertips
and a burn from back when you could still stomach toast
for breakfast. back when you could still stomach the image
of your ribcage in mirrored glass. now you shake when
your mother boils water on the stove, and it’s been almost
three years but you’re not doing better. and it’s so easy
to lie when someone asks if you’ve eaten that maybe
you can convince your own body it’s not starving.
in chasing the absence of ourselves
the darkness turns us into angels
we don’t fear falling, no, we
just want to know where we’ll land
and will the ground shake and
will our wings be too heavy,
will they weigh us down? if God asked you
if you’ve eaten yet today
what would you say?
Kayla Simon is a first-year student at the University of Connecticut, where she is majoring in English with a concentration in creative writing. There are few things she loves as much as poetry, but chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream definitely comes close. When she isn’t writing or reading, you can find her taking photos for her photography business or looking at the stars.