Counting to 24 pt II

Poem by Olivia Martin

I don’t recognize her anymore
she’s transparent like a jellyfish
that leaks poison on the floor

she doesn’t sting me
but she stings herself in the gut

she’s a skeleton, but she
isn’t dead yet
because she’s too weak

to even lift up the children
to put them to sleep

at night I count each of her
protruding ribs when
they stab me in bed

at night she counts carbs
and puts 24 grapes
in a small ziplock bag

“That’s 15 carbs”
All that she can have for the day

Olivia Martin is a Mount Union graduate from Salem, Ohio. She has bachelor’s degrees in both English and writing. She enjoys reading and writing about societal issues in the world today.

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