There lit a scarecrow on the roof
where underneath I lived my youth
what did I know of naked truth
is it my inner child inside I’m fighting?
Now, I’m not comfy in my skin
nor even like the state I’m in
just wondering where to begin
instead of lies, pretense and innuendo?
Just wish the worry go away
stop hiding in this old charade
food always wins this game I play
instead of praying, eating right and living.
Each and every night I fail to prove
food I will refuse you
bound up in lies, my food voodoo
my mind will manipulate.
Cuisine’s my sensuality
it keeps me from my liberty
and almost feels like piracy
when I sneak-slither to the kitchen sometimes.
But suddenly, I feel surprised
that now my health is compromised
my God, today I’ve realized
that food is what’s manipulating me …
manipulating …
Now every night I aim to prove
food I will refuse you
breaking the chains of food voodoo
so it can’t manipulate.
Food offers me no loving way
‘twill never love me today
won’t let it try to have its way
to refuse you,
prayer and hope will help me always.
Now every night I aim to prove
food I will refuse you
breaking the chains of food voodoo
so it can’t manipulate.
– Sandra Johnson, 6/27/21
As a survivor of anorexia and someone who still has food issues even decades later, I love the purity of this piece. I wish you great success in your efforts to love yourself and your poetry, as those avocations often go hand in hand. Best of luck to you. Thank you for being brave with your truth.
Thank you- I really appreciate your words.
Very nice poem addressing your eating situation. I admire your bravery. The great thing about poetry vs writing fiction is that poetry is more personal and you have done that here.
Thanks. That means a lot.