Skinny Girls Bleed Flowers: A Slam Poem | Savannah Brown

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these are not monsters.

there are no monsters here.

these feel like love, and when they creepinside you it’s like something once missing is finallycoming home.

how could a monster make such pretty girls?pretty girls, pretty skinny girls,they look like everything that is wonderful about being alive,like vodka diet cokes and pictures of hip bones at the beachand all i’ve eaten for the past three days is my own fingernailsand these monsters (not monsters) can make you pretty too.

you’ll learn to make jokes about why you’reslicing the five strawberries you brought for lunch(and breakfast, and dinner) into twenty-five pieces.

Lifting the morsels from perfectly folded napkin with delicate crackling fingersto hesitant tongue and when the jokes get too cumbersome,and taste too much like nourishment, like letting go, like happiness,learn to put an end to lunch, forget what it means andby the end of your last year of high school you’ll know every spot in the buildingwhere no one will ask where your friends are and why you look so tired.

the monsters (not monsters)will share their secrets.

you’ll learn that needle-thin bones, whencrushed into a fine paste and stirred intothe twenty glasses of water you were going to drink todaytaste like lemonade and you can have a sipfor only the cost of the rest of your life spent worshipingthe feeling of hollow searching up number and numberand dead girl and number you, too, can spend the restof the day smelling of what you just had to scrub off thebathroom floor.

go, they’ll say,outstretching manicured hands, bottle cap wrists—memorize menus and all the lies you could tellspend hours at the grocery store counting fiftyone hundred two hundredno more than three or else suddenly your thighs begin to inflatelike the balloons from all the birthday parties you couldn’tgo to you will learn to avoid celebrationbecause celebration means food you will spend christmas dayfanaticizing about burying your dissolving teeth into your knucklesuntil your heart stops.

the not-monsterswill feed you your first cigarette and your second, and your tenth.

They will leave your once shiny hair in a clumpon your pillowcase, just for you.

and when your body gets too weak,it starts to crumble, but where sick breaks skinsunflowers will grow.

an entire garden will forceitself from your empty stomach billowing out your mouth and you’ll chokebut you’ll be happy because at least you’re not eatingyou’ll decompose until you cannot be differentiatedfrom all the skeletons that have been living in your closetdon’t you wish you could shrink don’t you wish you could have that controldon’t you wish you could make your mom cry because she just doesn’t get why you’ddo this you don’t get why you’d do thisyou’re smart but you just googled how many calories are in tooth pastethe pretty girls pretty skinny girlspretty skinny girls pretty dying girlspretty dead girls the parasite can be restrained but not destroyed.

But no matter.

it’s a beautiful thing to be made of porcelain.

The picture of your hip bones at the beach was worth it.

Source: Youtube