Bread

Watered down cranberry juice, low fat Philly cheese, rice crackers and brown bread, no butter!

“You can have as much water as you like”

*laughs*

Anything sweet was always out of reach and I knew ‘they’ counted the chocolate like currency.

I was hungry Wednesday through Sunday, every second week, from ages 12 to 15.

 

Every time I returned home I would eat fistfuls of white bread, and mouthfuls of milo.

“You’ll be the size of a house one day!”

I was still hungry.

 

At my grandparent’s

the cupboards were full of popcorn, lollies, biscuits and chips.

My Poppy would pick up white rolls from Hot Bread every morning for our breakfast.

Butter melted as they steamed

warm in my hands.

“She’s a good eater, Jack!”

—————————————————————————————————————

my whole life

i have

ate my tongue.

ate my tongue.

ate my tongue.

i am so full of my tongue

you would think speaking is easy.

but it is not.

– For we who keep our lives in our mouths

by Nayyirah Waheed