how do you explain to someone
who doesn’t speak the language,
who hasn’t made the trip to the edge
and looked over,
comprehending the consequences
and leaping anyhow,
the combination of terror and anticipation and exhilaration
inherent in the teetering,
in the moment of decision
between stepping back
or once more choosing to fall.
From Famine to Feast. 
This is so pertinent for me today, and you’ve expressed my frustration so elequently.
Someone tried telling me how shit I am in response to a post about my anorexia today, insisted I should just eat the way she does.
So thankyou for this well penned poem.
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