Miracle – A Poem

A memory:

She is surrounded

by all the kids in my class.

She looks like some kind of

prophet, her dark hair and

pale skin like a beacon

to all of us.

“I can tell you if you are fat or thin,”

she says, her eyes seeming

to contain wisdom.

“All I need to do is put a hand on your stomach.”

That she has such powers

is amazing and all of us

queue up to her,

desperate to have her lay

her hand upon us as if

she is performing some kind

of miraculous miracle.

As I approach her,

she looks not at my stomach,

but at the way

that I walk towards her.

It is not a look of wisdom

that I see in her eyes,

but one of revulsion.

I want to turn away,

but the crowd of children

pushes me forwards.

She lays a hand on my stomach,

gives me a smile

that lacks any kind of warmth.

“You’re fat,”

She says.

“So incredibly fat.”

I back away from her as if

struck, falling into other children

in my haste to get away.

That evening,

I look at myself in the mirror

at home and I wonder why I

never saw how disgusting I was.

Was that thought waiting

for someone to rip off

the blinders so that

I could see myself as I really was?


As I look back at that memory,

at the moment which shaped

much of how I view myself,

I can finally let it go

which is a miracle

all its own.

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