Back to Annie M's Artist PageTo the Artist's Page            Back to the Unlikely Stories home pageTo our home page
future experiencerTo Annie M's previous piece     memory laneTo Annie M's next piece


s

my back hurts everyday.  
iím still waiting to get use to it.
sometimes it itches 
beneath the skin
at the muscle.

my bones stopped growing, after surgery, when i was 12
	aside from those in my arms
	and legs.

couldnít they have left me alone?
	let me run off with the circus as the
	magnificent camel back?
	
70+ grand, internal stitches, half a pound of stainless steel, 50 staples and 
	9 years later,
iím more pissed off
at the world
than ever.
	ďfriendsĒ say they donít notice
		my hunchback.
	strangers come up to me 
	and ask ďwhat is thatĒ?
		itís not as rude as
			people who stare or 
			people who lie...
				as if i myself,
				donít know or
				do not fully understand
				how fucked up i look.

in 8 hours
the surgical team
did the best they could.  my spine is straighter now then when this head
came out of that twat.
	still fucked up
	but not as fucked up.
	a jack the ripper performed on
	modern ďmiracleĒ of plastic surgery.

born inferior
for years
i dreamed a way
to get an edge over 
normal women.
	itís hard to live
	with how ugly my body is.
		hips twisted,
		breasts crooked,
		left foot wider to compensate for the unbalanced weight distribution,
		sunken in right shoulder,
		fully grown arms and legs
		on a torso
		that is the length
		of a 12 year old girl.
			
			whatís inside counts?
			meet my herring rods
			which keep my ribs
			from collapsing on 
			the lungs.

i have bad balance and fall down a lot.
i have broken three bones this way.
	going down a staircase is always
		a potential health hazard.

i canít feel my nipples because of the nerve 
damage done during 
the initial scalpel swipe.

i havenít cried about it in a long time
because i am 
a big girl now.
itís just today
the aching in my last five vertebrae
is persistently spreading
throughout the whole of my spine.
	i wonder how much more time there is
	before my hips become displaced
	and i lose the ability to walk.

a boy at a party kissed me. he put his arm around me to pull me closer. when his hand came across my deformed ribs he stopped. i went to the refrigerator and drank another shot of grain liquor faintly embarrassed for us both. it doesnít bother everyone. those whose sexual pity has peaked ask if they can touch it. i say sure with the condition that they do not touch my 2 foot long scar because it makes me feel like i might split open at the seam.

To the top of this pageTo the top of this page