Work Text:
“I dunno,”,
is my automatic answer when my dad asks me what I’d like for dinner.
I tell him I’ll eat whatever my sister eats.
He walks away.
It’s become a ritual of sorts every mealtime, and as my dad goes to my sister asking what she wants for dinner,
I think to myself, why don’t I have a preference?
Am I just indecisive, or do I just not want to choose?
I’ll eat anything, really.
Correction, most things.
Mother makes a hearty dinner, and I won’t eat the cherry tomatoes.
“Eat those tomatoes. They’re good for you.”
Good for me? If they were good for me, then my body would’ve felt good when I ate them.
And yet, the texture threw me off and I felt the bile rise in my throat.
Chunks of rice and carrot gurgle in my stomach as I digest, as my parents digest the sight
of me retching into my bowl.
And yet, nothing comes out. I’ve digested it.
Swallowed the guilt and helplessness and embarrassment
Down in my stomach.
It gurgled through my winding intestines, made me feel everything as I twisted and turned in my sleep,
Their words when they told me I was making a fuss, their scoffs as I chugged as much water as I could,
trying to swallow the taste of my own stupid failure. Trying to digest.
Maybe I’ll walk it off,
But then my legs start to move faster, and I start panting, huff, huff…
I tell myself life isn’t a race,
And yet, I find myself running
to keep up with those who have run fast their whole life.
They improve every day, yet I run
Slower, and slower, until I’m jogging.
Slower, and slower, until I’m walking.
Slower… and now I’m crawling.
Everyone is in front of me.
Things used to come to me so easily,
And now I’ve got to fight to even breathe.
I watch those who gain muscle like it’s nothing
And those who have the motivation to do so
thrive.
And I’m left
rotting
in my bed,
trying to digest.