Poisoned Apples
Authors: Heppermann,Christine
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[dedication tk]
“Mannequins Make Me Feel Like a Failure.” âClaudia, age 13
The Giant's Daughter at Spring Formal
Thumbelina's Get-Tiny CleanseâTested
Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board
What She Heard the Waitress Say
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POISONED
APPLES
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T
he action's always there.
Where are the fairy tales about gym class
or the doctor's office or the back of the bus
where bad things also happen?
Pigs can buy cheap building materials
just as easily in the suburbs.
Wolves stage invasions. Girls spit out
cereal, break chairs, and curl beneath
covers like pill bugs or selfish grannies
avoiding the mess.
No need for a bunch of trees.
You can lose your way anywhere.
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O
nce there was a girl who wore her bones outside of her body.
Once there was a girl who thought bones looked nice.
Once there was a girl who had limbs as blue as razors.
Once there was a girl who sat by a pool in August
wrapped in a quilt.
Once there was a girl who even after she became a beast,
soft fur blanketing her cheeks, belly, and back,
still shaved her legs.
Once there was a girl who peeled grapes, who picked at salads,
who piled leaves on top of the cheese.
Once there was a girl who dared not swallow anything but air,
so she hid her saliva in plastic bags beneath her bed.
Once there was a girl who wrote “BLOATED WHALE”
inside the pocket of her skinny jeans.
Once there was a girl whose little sister pretended
all the dollies had feeding tubes.
Once there was a girl whose father held her tight
to stop her from doing crunches.
Once there was a girl whose mother's dreams
all became nightmares.
Once there was a girl who longed to be brave
enough to stick her finger down her throat,
to measure herself by the teaspoon,
to shrink to the size of a serving.
Once there was a girl who lay still for the doctor.
Once there was a girl whose favorite nurse called her Sugar.
Once there was a girl whose heart burrowed deep in the hollow of her chest
and went to sleep.
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