Pieces of Me that Hurt
I cannot eat in front of my roommate.
There’s too much noise to be made,
Too much sound.
I’m too big for this skin and all a part of me wants to do is
Shr
I
N
K.
So I sneak,
Like a thief
In the night.
My sisters visited,
Tank tops,
Mid drifts,
Tight jeans.
I swallowed every painful thing,
The food looked delicious,
It tasted like ash.
I thought I was getting better,
But a part of me will
Never
Stop
Wanting
To
Be
smaller.
All Lives Matter
“QUICK,” cried the little girl, “somebody help, my dog is drowning!”
She ran to the end of the pier. The only other person there, a man in a white melon hat, glared at her. He pointed at the Jack Russell at his feet.
“Why should I help you? What about my dog? Isn’t my dog important?”
The Jack Russell barked.
“What? Your dog is important but he’s fine. Please help me, my dog is drowning, could you call somebody?”
“Why do you think your dog matters more than mine?”
“I never–”
″All dogs matter.”
“I know, your dog is lovely, but please my dog is dr–”
Let’s stop right there.
There comes a point where your intent is insignificant. Your belief in your own innocence doesn’t take away from the damage you are doing. Whether you say “all lives matter” out of artificial holiness, or maliciously, the result is the same. Your actions and words hurt. You cannot shut your eyes to the harm you’re a part of by claiming you speak only with goodwill. Only out of honesty.
Don’t patronise. Your concern for all lives proves nothing but your ignorance.
