“every meal’s a challenge when you’re recovering from an eating disorder, but meals out come with their own unique problems. it would be nice if i could just abandon my drug of choice and give up on food entirely, but eating is a requirement for life, or so they tell me.”
“my hands smell green. they smell like the leaves and stalks of a tomato plant, which is not surprising, considering i just picked several off the plant growing in a pot on my back deck. it’s been a good harvest, which surprised me, since the leaves look like a poster for unhealthy plant development, all green and grey and curled. it is not an overly attractive plant.”
“it hides inside of me,
down in my torso or perhaps in my soul.
it’s a space that cannot be filled,
no matter how often it’s fed;”