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s

my back hurts everyday.  
i’m still waiting to get use to it.
sometimes it itches 
beneath the skin
at the muscle.

my bones stopped growing, after surgery, when i was 12
	aside from those in my arms
	and legs.

couldn’t they have left me alone?
	let me run off with the circus as the
	magnificent camel back?
	
70+ grand, internal stitches, half a pound of stainless steel, 50 staples and 
	9 years later,
i’m more pissed off
at the world
than ever.
	“friends” say they don’t notice
		my hunchback.
	strangers come up to me 
	and ask “what is that”?
		it’s not as rude as
			people who stare or 
			people who lie...
				as if i myself,
				don’t know or
				do not fully understand
				how fucked up i look.

in 8 hours
the surgical team
did the best they could.  my spine is straighter now then when this head
came out of that twat.
	still fucked up
	but not as fucked up.
	a jack the ripper performed on
	modern “miracle” of plastic surgery.

born inferior
for years
i dreamed a way
to get an edge over 
normal women.
	it’s hard to live
	with how ugly my body is.
		hips twisted,
		breasts crooked,
		left foot wider to compensate for the unbalanced weight distribution,
		sunken in right shoulder,
		fully grown arms and legs
		on a torso
		that is the length
		of a 12 year old girl.
			
			what’s inside counts?
			meet my herring rods
			which keep my ribs
			from collapsing on 
			the lungs.

i have bad balance and fall down a lot.
i have broken three bones this way.
	going down a staircase is always
		a potential health hazard.

i can’t feel my nipples because of the nerve 
damage done during 
the initial scalpel swipe.

i haven’t cried about it in a long time
because i am 
a big girl now.
it’s just today
the aching in my last five vertebrae
is persistently spreading
throughout the whole of my spine.
	i wonder how much more time there is
	before my hips become displaced
	and i lose the ability to walk.

a boy at a party kissed me.
he put his 
arm around me
to pull me closer.
when his hand
came across
my deformed ribs
he stopped.
i went to the refrigerator
and drank another shot
of grain liquor
faintly embarrassed for us both.

it doesn’t bother everyone.
those whose
sexual pity
has peaked
ask if they can touch it.
i say sure
with the condition
that they do not touch
my 2 foot long scar
because
it makes me feel
like i might
split open
at the seam.

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