Aches and Pains

This feeling,
this ache
that I have
started out small at first
these thoughts
were just flying, fleeting
surfacing only as raindrops
sticking to my skin
under the
rhythmic pitter-patter
of another afternoon thunderstorm in the middle of July.
This feeling,
this ache
has festered into
the corners of my heart
the split-ends of my hair
the space between my toes
the slope of my hips.
I was twelve.
And it had only just begun to rain.

It started with the scale
with neon numbers flashing, glaring
back at me
changing everyday
making me wonder how I was growing so fast
how everyday I was falling farther and farther away
from the orange-haired
freckle-faced girl
with grass stains on the knees of her jeans
who had size 0 hand-me-down sundresses
waiting in the closet.

And now,
while it's still about the scale,
it's also about the mirrors
the inches
the stores
the sizes
the stares -
Stares that I will never return.
But you will never get to know that
I have been suffocating
underneath the weight of myself for years
that I have been hungry, but never smaller
that I have been anxious, but never afraid
that most of the time I look in the mirror
and do not recognize the thick, unforgiving curves
staring back at me
that instead
I expect to see the girl with grass on the knees of her jeans.

And if I could,
I would shake her and tell her
stop
just breathe, little girl
your soft, speckled skin
and your short, stick-like legs
are beautiful.
If you only knew
it has only just begun to rain.

But that girl is nowhere to be found.
And no amount of sweat, tears, or hunger
is going to bring her back.
But I will never confess to you
that's what I have been
trying to do
to fit into the breath of space
between this size and the next
to shrink back into nothing
to float effortlessly somewhere else
anywhere else
where I can't analyze
the corners of my heart
the split ends of my hair
the space between my toes
the slope of my hips
the destruction scene they have become
and neither can you.

I will speak just this once
vaguely, quietly
so you can't get too close
to the numbers circling in my head
so you can't pity me.
you can only sit with me
and listen
to the pitter-patter of the rain,
the staggering bounce of my breathing
and wait for me to say something
anything
because all I can do
is lie on my back
with my face pointed towards the gray sky
with the rain dampening my outspread arms
with salty tears sliding slowly
silently
down my cheeks,
with my mind drifting in and out of consciousness
dreaming about the day I will walk by a mirror
and yearn to see
what I now despise
and I will tell that girl
stop
just breathe
I think the rain is stopping now
falling lightly now
It's okay to look,
and think about where
this feeling,
this ache
began.