In your hands

You decide.

You cradle my tiny life in your massive hands

You decide where I get to sleep

Eat

go to school.

You decide if I live my life 

between metal detectors and bars

or inside the walls of a too-small house

that never truly meets the expectations of a home

a cheap, rotting apartment that smells like Ice and Lean

I am solitary equation rattling around on a chalkboard

Is she going to turn out a criminal

or something more

will her upbringing plus trauma lead to 

charges and felonies

will she leave the system

or will she die trying

All of your questions were answered

as soon as you got the report of a 

17 year old girl you placed in a shelter

after being locked up for 14 months

you received word of her being arrested

taken in handcuffs

you read in horror as it goes into detail

about her slipping the cuffs off her too-small wrists

shaped and shrunk by malnutrition

bad eating habits you attempted to ship her away for

but never fully did because she lied so well

said her weight was due to meds or her not feeling well

You turn the page and read that the men yelled at her

after realizing their mistake

and how after putting her in two handcuffs so tightly around her wrists

you saw her eyes spark with fear and

then quickly distinguish with the sound of scratching flesh

You flip the packet over

you read how blood flowed openly from wound to palm to dull tile

nearly indistinguishable from a leaking water bottle.

Chastised her for not taking it seriously

but she took it too seriously, and you knew because

you've dealt with her for so long.

You know how her face betrays nothing

true emotions hidden behind a smirk

or arrogant grin

to hide her unease.

You read the packet with engrossed 

twisted fascination

wondering how far this girl will go

how far she came for freedom

she left a neglectful home just

to find a worse one

her biggest fears didn't sleep under her bed

they slept in the form of her mother

dormant

until evening.

She struggled with that before entering the system

where you tried to nurture her as best

you could

but she seemed to wither up and die

anorexia eating her from the inside out

depression gnawing at her bones 

Anxiety tearing away at her flesh in the forms of knives.

You cradled the girl's life in her hands

like a baby bird

but you feared her potential

she was so frail

standing on a cliff

the wind pushing her that way and which

College or Jail

Prison or confinement

home or asylum

Life sentence or a sentenced to a life at a eating disorder center across the country

You no longer decide for me

Your intentions are good but they are not for the benefit of the child

You don't seem to notice those nights i ran wild

were because I was running from nightmares of abuse

that the eating disorder wasn't an excuse

or a reason why

it was a lullaby her mother never sang her to sleep

it was comfort

more comfort than you ever gave me.

Author's Note

Ramblings of me. Please pardon the terribleness.