Disordered Poem by Kirsty Simmons

This is a thin line you walk,
one side so thin, you have the taste
of absolutely nothing upon your lips.
The other, exactly where you never
wanted to be.
Your flesh is so apparent
will there ever be anything more
important?
She is sitting
in the very next room if you would only see.
Thin isn’t worth anything.
The past is so vivid in this sick mind of mine.
The act of balancing on this beam,
my knees begin to shake and
my heart breaking under this pressure
because I know this truth
this truth that they don’t.