I Think it Scares Me

i think it scares me

i think it scares you 

when my chest falls up and down with the weight of yesterday’s rice and kozhambu*, 

when it fills my mouth faster than it filled my stomach,

when I look down at the toilet bowl 

and extend my sweaty arms to grab its cold ceramic, 

when my hair spews over my shoulders and all over my face,

all    over    my   mo u th 

a l l     o  v  e r    the   pl  a    c   e. 

i think it worries you 

that i can hurl out what i eat,

that it can congest my mouth and nose, 

                        up what i loved most

that i can cough

and vomit 

                out everything i want told, 

bl o o d, mu cus, sa li va, sw   eat,

that i want to see my food outside me,

my fingers tracing hope in the bathroom walls, 

my lungs looking for reasons to be lie ve. 

i think it angers you 

how can i puke out things in my room,

how can i barf books over my bed, 

how can i not notice i had spilled oorkaai* on my sheets 

and complain i don’t know how to wash off the oil, 

how can my legs be so tired that i let the trash stay inside, 

that i let the bananas on the table rot, 

that i let my appetite wild. 

kozhambu- “curry” in Tamil 

oorkaai- “pickle” in Tamil