Shadorma Experiment: Anorexia

I.

Hip bones jut

but less loudly than

dead dog eyes

dull black rock

not disguised. Rotting away.

Eaten inside out.

 

II.

One hundred:

I’m double-nothing.

closer to

succeeding,

the sun-kissed shoulders shrinking,

caged: my perfection.

 

III.

Am I so

brave, superior?

inch/oz creep

up/down; sleep?

Not a possibility;

I’d dream of grilled cheese.

 

I experimented with a poetic form that is new to me: the shadorma. It is simply a 6-lined poem with syllable count as follows: 3/5/3/3/7/5. I wrote a mini-series on anorexia. Feedback is appreciated!

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