Wildfires

They’re all going to choke on their words soon,
Don’t worry about a thing, dear.
Ana eyes me as I do another push-up.

I don’t stop, even though every muscle
Screams in agony as I refuse to give up
Don’tstopyou’resostupiddoyouwanttobeugly?
And move on to sit-ups, leg lifts, five laps around the park.
It will never be enough;
I will never be enough.

After a quick shower,
I stare at the mirror and try not to look away;
I recoil as I see, for a millisecond, a skeletal being.
But that’s impossible, just my imagination
The real ‘me’ is right there.

Damp hair, curling slightly at the ends,
Framing a round face
Eyes too far apart
Nose too big
Lips too thin
Nothing to desire or impress.

I slip into an oversized sweatshirt,
Conveniently skipping dinner
And as the dawn of morning spills through the curtains
I remember that it’s Monday.
Time to go to school and try not to
Be fazed at the assembly and insolent fools
Around me, crying over someone they never knew
While simultaneously pointing a finger at me.

Mia’s words are suddenly significant:
You’re the reason why she’s dead.

Did someone make a mistake?

Was I supposed to be the sacrificial lamb?

It’s going to be a long day.