Broken Rules
I sit at the breakfast table
Heart pounding
The other girls have started
And I feel the nurse’s eyes on me.
I look at my tray
And my head begins calculating
calories
Grasping for some sort of control
Some way to manage to consume
What is infront of me.
This morning it’s gone from one
weetbix
To two,
Along with the glass of full-fat
milk
And the pottle of yoghurt.
There’s also a kiwifruit
That’s been added in.
I feel nauseas.
By the time I’ve mixed the food
together
In the bowl with my weetbix
It’s ten to eight.
Only ten minutes
To eat it.
I take a deep breath
And will myself
To raise the spoon to my lips
My hand shaking
Tears threatening.
A voice cuts in
“You need to use the big spoon –
teaspoons are only for yoghurt Kas”
I can’t even look at the nurse
As knot of anger rises inside of
me.
Non resistance
I remind myself
And swap spoons.
I manage to finish
With seconds to spare;
The trays are packed away,
The room empties.
Two hours until morning tea …
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