24 December 2012
Over stuffing yourself as a poor hood kid is something certain people will never understand.
We can both look up and visualize the same pink sky, but only you will see beauty. To me, cruelty grins it’s rose face in my direction and I am forced to ask why another day has passed where I have only a few dollars and the half-hearted will to survive.
I walk into that store, the one that sells grease by the bucket-full and I mull over their offerings. Outside there are ripe plants and fruits, twice the price of their quickly cooked lard and starchy bread. My mom isn’t home. She’s home but she’s never home. Presently, I am what I have in this world - and I’m a burden.
At 14-16-18-20-22 / I have come to terms with the fact that breathing will be different for me than it will be for you. Vanity and luxury are things so far off my radar that they seem as untouchable as the plastic men on tv with their toy cars and sound systems. It’s funny how we’re always listening to the same tune. I guess we’re the same in that aspect.
I never imagine myself jumping out their candy-colored whip, Not only is it a waste of time, but I am no part reflective of the straight hair, lean & long-legged, fair-skinned trophy they cling to for relevance. Scarily enough, those men usually aren’t reflective of those trophies either.
There’s always another girl behind me waiting impatiently as I decide what I want in life. Ironically, she always looks like me, sounds like me, walks like me and smells like me. I can feel her rolling her eyes, cause I’m rolling mine. I choose the two things that are 1.29, together they cost just around the price of that box of berries I passed to get here. However, instead of starving after consuming those berries, I will be satisfied enough to sleep tonight.
It comes to me and it smells like armpits and cheese and chicken and motor oil. My mind has been conditioned to love that smell. The first bite is taken slowly and the second bite is fast and blind.
I feel my legs tremble and my stomach arrive at a place where even though it’s expanding, I feel a sense of satisfaction.
I see the girl from behind me settle down with her meal and her friend. Both victims of the cruel pink sky.
120111305P
Obesity • Opuss № I