I couldn’t get out of bed because I was disorganised

This is what they told me

If you are disorganised you cannot be happy

The sheets fell on top of me and were weighed down with sand

The sand was in the bed but I couldn’t see it

I am hungry but don’t know what to eat

My stomach tells me this daily

I try to say it is past midday and this makes me afraid

How will I make it


I was disorganised so they bought me a calendar

I was told to fill the days with walking and praying

On the first day I wrote breakfast lunch dinner

I was tired from the effort

I ran my hand over the words and smudged them

This was my greatest victory


When I eat everything sticks to my teeth

I am constantly brushing them

I lie on the bed and let the sun hit me

It is the only way to feel pure

The best way to fill a day is to colour it

I painted each day white with Tipp-Ex

Good days are blue

Blue gets a bad reputation but everything beautiful

is blue


Everywhere people are listing the things they eat

This is exactly what I am not supposed to do

I reached down inside me and held the rumbling tight

I reached down inside me and rocked it back to sleep

If you hold it for long enough it will eventually stop shaking


I wrote over the Tipp-Ex

I am even afraid of water because it is not blue


They told me to write a poem about it

I showed them the white calendar

They said it was the wrong kind of poem

When I eat everything gets all over my face

I coloured the lids of peanut butter jars white

They said I should be ashamed of myself

I told them that there is no room for anything else