Branches Book

BRANCHES

We must finish it all, among critical eyes With two spoons—no sharps, And no more than twelve ounces of water Harmful as it may be, us Ed girls help one another We whisper and scheme, share tips and tricks While the Gen. girls cry, in fear of our lives And we laugh, for what does that matter?

Soon, I am gifted another relief, in the form of a little white pill The changes are slim, but I knew it kicked in For the anger that bounced off the walls dissipated And my darkness—it lightened to gray

Recovery

Relapse: it’s a game of tug-of-war, and on the line, My body, my health, and my life Yanked from one side to another— stretched thin It’s not long before one will break Ed clings to me—desperate, with quarters and tape, Desperate myself, I cling back At the time, I’m empowered, but later learn Quarters and weights just delay certain pain

Left to my own chemical devices, grayness darkens to black And for the first time, I see the source—feel the power and force Of my anger—just below the surface And for the first time, I do not let it drown The last night of the year, I finally see, I cannot recover For anyone but me, so I must care for myself, as though a small child Would I ever let Ed harm a child? Why me? I know I do not deserve this. My voice, weak and weary, has arisen from the dead! And with it, I fight for my life It grants me gifts that Ed never could: courage, strength, and best of all, Independence from Ed and from him

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