00 (Double Zero)
By Canonette
- 10256 reads
She is starving on a diet of broth - desperately
devouring the contents of her fridge in a morning.
Stuck in a binge-purge cycle. Yo-yoing.
Guiltily shovelling bland grains of quinoa,
into her yearning mouth, while her shrinking stomach
groans pitiful protest.
She is disciplining her wayward body with a regime
that exhausts and drains, while it firms and tautens.
Cardio boot camp and dates with her personal trainer.
While at home, her boyfriend recalls the birdcage
of her ribs with a shudder and longs for the comfort of
her old upholstery.
She is breathing ketones over repulsed colleagues,
they note her lack of vitality and her once sharp
memory made flaky, by self-obsessed abstinence.
Fat-burning lemonade with cayenne pepper, sours
the yawning hollow, where her acidic furred tongue
gags on bitterness.
She is fixating on her own faeces, an enema addict,
watching lumps of matter pass along the tube -
flushed out, cleaning her from the inside of unwanted.
The hard nozzle in her anus, sharp reminder of suffering
to be slender. She feels joy painfully as the scales
register her loss.
She is calculating the cost in calories of last night’s
white wine spritzer, which led one thing to another -
her on the floor, smeared shameful in self-induced
vomit. She purges, pukes, sneaks laxatives – her heart
weakening, her will winning. Don’t eat. Be perfect.
Empty is strength.
She is eyeing images of pro ana bloggers, enviously
for thinspiration – air gaps between thighs, hips sharp
as axe blades, honed and planed, their bodies starved
to angular. Clavicle ledges, bumped and ridged red carpet
décolletage. She aims for the stars – double nothings
are her target.
She slims to be
newly pre-pubescent -
the path of womanhood,
reversed, dress sizes
dropped – hunger
conquered.
Her
goal
is
super-
skinny.
00.
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Comments
Very sad, and gruesom. So
Very sad, and gruesom. So pointless, I suppose a form of addiction. Rhiannon
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An illness it is. Such a
An illness it is. Such a crazy, messed-up society we live in, with these pressures for people to make themselves ill for.... what? To look ill. Because it's how the models in Cosmo look. And helped no end, of course, by fatuous Hollywood stars gushing over images of their Photoshop-pinched and distorted bodies. I have a dear friend who's anorexic... and who also has an alcohol problem. The calorie-counting and unit-counting on a daily basis is mind-boggling.
You've managed to get it all in here - the whole fixation-obsession-sick thing. The physical, mental and emotional destruction it causes. Powerful stuff.
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The scary thing about the Pro
The scary thing about the Pro Ana site is that it gives all these hints of ways to starve without anyone noticing - and without collapsing, whilst making it sound almost like reasonable diet advice. A woman posted her grotesquely skinny image (the saddest thing) on the net because she is dying from anorexia, as a warning of where it all leads, but she ended up with girls asking her how she did it - wanting to 'succeed' as she did in losing weight. For some, it's the only thing they can control in life, and then that's beyond their control, too. Your poem brings out so many good points written with powerful imagery. Well done!
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A dainty supper-time read
A dainty supper-time read full of the nothingness that vain insanity provides to the army of strong-willed mental masturbators. Boiled to perfection by someone who's really getting to grips with the sharp, acidic properties of free verse poetry, this would make a fitting POTW. We've become a land of extremes, mostly in nausea. Obese/anorexic, good (wherever that is)/bad, right (soon to be)/wrong, love (now where did that stuff get to?)/hate (there it is!), honesty (found in those with the least)/ dishonesty (just pick anyone we're supposed to look up to), kindness (again, from those with nought)/ unkindness (the rich fuckers).
I personally look forward to my log in the morning, a sure sign that I'm treating my body to good, nourishing food, although I do wonder why Indian and Chinese food offer up far less compared to the amount scoffed, and they always come out in pellets.
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This is a very difficult poem
This is a very difficult poem, Canonette - there's this unconscious drip of expectation, of hyper-sexualised adolescence that's absorbed from day to day and then suddenly plays out in the body. I really appreciated the way you put this into words, here. So much more needs to be said on the subject.
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very moving
particularly liked juxtaposition in this verse.....well done
air gaps between thighs, hips sharp
as axe blades, honed and planed, their bodies starved
to angular. Clavicle ledges, bumped and ridged red carpet
décolletage
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congratulations on the pick
congratulations on the pick Canonette - I missed this peice but read the other two. All of them superb and immensely sad. Nothing changes.
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A horribly disturbing subject
A horribly disturbing subject but very well written. I liked the bit about the puzzled boyfriend mising her upholstery. And the idea of a thigh gap being something to aspire to - sheesh! Of all the strange things people's minds can do, I've always found anorexia the hardest one to understand. Such a confused way of people trying to control their lives but being so apparently out of control. That's not meant to overly criticise anyone who has anorexia - just that I really struggle to understand it. It's one of my biggest fears that my daughter will get it (for want of a better phrase) at some point.
Anyway, well done for the cherries and for bringing this subject up for debate.
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Totally deserving of its
Totally deserving of its accolades. Superb.
Tina
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You've an amazing way with
You've an amazing way with words, canonette. 'Longs for the comfort of her old upholstery," is a line in such strong contrasts to the rest.. Yet it fits so well. Congrats on all your deserved accolades.
Rich
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i think we create the
i think we create the pressure ourselves, to be completely honest. but its a great poem, i enjoyed how the line size reflected the content.
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I don't read much poetry but
I don't read much poetry but that was an amazing piece of work. Some of the ideas were powerful, funny yet sad. I loved the bit about fixating over feaces. I never thought I'd read a sentence like that. I did smile at this, but I can see the pain of the person in this position.
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Such powerful imagery and I'm
Such powerful imagery and I'm a complete noob when it comes to poetry!
A great, but sad read, Canonette. I really liked the way the structure seemed to grow thinner as it came to an end - a really nice touch. Thought-provoking, scary stuff that was well imagined and written.
A well-deserved pick.
Y.
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