Insomniac poem, 2002

I´ve found this poem in a book I reread not long ago. It is sad. I remember the day I wrote it- it was few days before Christmas in 2002, so that I was freshly seventeen. Well nothing was fresh, I felt probably like seventy and was pretty scared because of comming Christmas. It´s naive poem, but I think that it summarizes the lowest feeling connected with eating disorder. I think the translation makes it even more pathetic, but it has really hit me when it fell from the book, so that I want it here. I owe to this 17years old girl better poem. She is still waiting, somewhere.

XII/2002
This poem is naked, cold and insomniac.
It forgot its name somewhere. *


In the sites where I ask the night
to seal me - it dawns.
So silently that you could hear
the immovable time.
My sister´s even breathing,
even dreams.

I whisper in dreamless magazine:
one vanilla crescent
is thirteen minutes ironing.
I see. The theorem.

Behind the thin cold windows
Someone strong
is hanging first creased light.
I unarm,
lay down to my arms
so strong
I am no more able to lift.


* I was never good in titles