By: Hannah Kierman
Warm colors flow down my back
The river of fleeting blues
Rushing around my body
The hues surrounding
Sunshine mounting
From the summit of the mountain
That I hiked with my dad
My memories bring me back
To the sand crunching below my feet
As I walk along the beach
A laughing Golden Retriever
Rolls over, demanding constant belly rubs
Yet quivers when fireworks spark
I tell my lover to play a symphony on my back
Dragons dance, swaying through the crowds
Chinese New Year
The aroma of my grandmother’s cooking:
Rich Chocolate cakes
So piping hot, the ice cream turns into a creamy puddle on top
Dripping into a pool of warm caramel
Onto the plate, rippling in the sticky liquid
Smooth garlic mashed potatoes
Both a border and a sponge to the gravy
Poultry smothered au jus
I feel queasy
From the eight burritos at El Pollo Loco before dinner
To the piping hot chocolate croissants in the morning
I can hear Mom in my head
Your father wishes we looked different
Like the girls who play competitive sports
Like the girls who hike the rolling mountains
You never taught me how to say
no
Just say no to all of the food being shoved down my gullet
No to the negative remarks about what I look like
How I should look
Being hungry meant consuming a buffet
Gaining your love meant having an eating disorder
So here I am
Stripped of my clothes
Resentment showers over my naked body
Drips off of every bony crook
A puddle on the floor
One I would splash around in as a child
When I didn’t know what I was becoming
Your product
