I woke up
6:20
Like all mornings
I walked to school
Faded collared shirt tucked into worn belt
I walked to school
I bet Anna woke up with 20 different pieces to her outfit

She woke up
6:20
Like all mornings
It was a struggle
Layers on   l a y e r s   on   l  a  y  e  r   s    on       l       a     y     e     r    s…
“Fashion” disguised her repulsive anorexia

My 20 step math problems left me with a
Measly scholarship
And 20 everlasting judging looks
For my repeated clothing
And my father’s matching
Anna’s 20-dollar nail polish
Changed everyday

One rib, two ribs, three ribs… 20 ribs.
Try as she might
She could not eat on weight (not even 20 pounds)
Instead she ate away at her father’s guilt
He was never here for her first words
She fears he won’t make it for her last

His briefcase,
Spilling with filthy money,
Was his true daughter.
She only a mere newspaper
Read once, twice on a lucky day
Then left alone for the rest of the month

20 times a year
To see her father smile at her genuinely,
Is all she asks for

School took the role of her real parent
On days he checked her health
She stuffed marbles deep down pockets of heavy sweaters
In hope 100 fake pounds would be enough to not get a call home

Though we both brought sandwiches
Anna’s was treated like a delicacy
Iberico ham on quail eggs on semi-dried Italian tomatoes on 20-hour fermented sour dough bread
Always with left-over’s by the end of lunch

Mine was a joke
Wal-Mart ham on Wal-Mart bread
Always with a growling stomach by the end of lunch

As I cried of ignored fears that spilled like her glimmering hair
Anna produced resounding laughter that was always echoed by 20 followers

She tries to talk through all of lunch so she does not have to eat
Iberico ham slice, half a quail egg, semi-dried Italian tomato slice on 20-hour fermented sour dough bread
One bite is 20 calories
20 is too much

A boy sat behind me in history
I didn’t know he wondered where my thoughts were
Whether his could roam wild with mine in the breeze
I didn’t know he noticed the days I put up my hair
Or that he watched me out the corner of his eye
I didn’t know
All through the study of the roaring ‘20s
I thought he watched Anna

She doesn’t dare show people her 20 ribs for fear that they will dump her
Like her dad
And that boy in history class
His thoughts galloped away from her frail half-formed thoughts
That didn’t know where to go
Because everywhere she went
Her medical wristband followed like a shadow

I ate sadness disguised as a plain sandwich
Like all lunches
12:20
I cried of a lack of happiness, a lack of lust, a lack of life

Though this time
It was not like every noon
He came up to wipe my tears, just to say hi
He didn’t care that I wore the same clothes
Almost everyday
And cried over silly things
Like a low-down look
From a complete stranger

This noon, forever after noon
I am okay
Even though I’m not Anna

I do not need to be

Knock. Knock. Knock.
She opens the door
Expecting the mail
Preparing to make her own birthday meal
Again

But that does not happen
The idea floats away like a balloon
Happy to fly free and away

She sees a box of takeout from her favorite restaurant
And a vase of flowers
Following the arm of the man holding them
She sees her father

Today she’ll eat as many 20s as she can
Today she’s with the person she loves most
She does not see her wrist band anywhere
She does not see her father’s brown briefcase
She does not see who she is defined as

Only who she is to become