We wait for a bus
I shade my eyes
And seek out our
Destination- it's
Across the street
Literally
The long thin
Building behind
Us houses all
Of us until it's
Breakfast, lunch,
Or dinner
Then we have to
Huddle under the
Shuttle shelter
With our
Withered stares
Even Marina sets
Her mouth in
One small line
When it's meal
Time all bravado
Goes
The bus pulls up
And we shuffle on
Hands in fists, Sandra
With her rubber band
Snapping frantically
Her wrist
This is when I hate
Life the most, when
No one can be bothered
To hide their fears
It's uncivilized
It's unraveled
The therapists
Assigned to lunch
Duty talk far too brightly
And we are across the
Road too soon.
YOU ARE READING
The Weightless One
Teen FictionEvery bit of food I eat Is turning into more thoughts And what do I do with the thoughts I am too afraid to say? After a party changed everything, Miranda loses her appetite. She is placed in an eating disorder treatment program, where she must be b...
