Fifteen

By: Abbey Roschak

Age is just a number

We all start out at one

But someone’s first year

Is another’s seventh

Their neighbor’s eleventh

My fifteenth

I spent my thirteenth

Thinking of my fourteenth

Praying for my fifteenth

But I didn’t think it’d turn out like this

Mirrors are reflections that have us believe

They mirror what we don’t want to see

A defect in my eyes 

Led to Sunday night cries

And picture-perfect lullabies

I hummed the rhythm of my musical stomach

Which made me go to sleep

I beat the drum of my self-worth

Which left purple bruises

And a strong flinch reflex

I ran to the sound of my sloshing ears

Which were deaf to compliments

But sharp to insults

I strummed mascara across my lashes

To take away from my summer rashes

But none of my songs

Could stop my body from harm

For I still became diseased

When I turned fifteen

And my belittling ways

That I had total control over

Turned into involuntary feelings

And incorrectly-fit jeans

I used to pray for a slim waist

But now I beg for a day 

Where I don’t waste away

I took for granted things I had forgotten

Like running half a mile

And soaking up the sun

But now my mind is the athlete

And the sun makes me melt

I strived for a gap between my thighs

Until the only thing holding them together

Were loosely fit bottoms

For my shame of an unknown illness

Took up more space

Than my thighs ever will

I starved myself of needed nutrients

So that I could feel thin

Until my body stopped absorbing them

I beat myself up for not being pretty enough

Until my cheeks became potholes

And my eyes became placeholders

For the marks of heavy hands

Like mine that bow down in the silence

Of permanently staying silent

When you’re fifteen,

You feel that life is so mean

Because you got your heart broken

And that guy wasn’t quite your token

Your parents don’t understand

Why you hate yourself so bad

But when you’re fifteen

And feel stripped of your teens

You’ll see that nothing hurts more

Than something you cannot stop

And your mother will do everything she can

To stop your trembling hands

And here I am at seventeen

Wishing I could go back

And change how selfish I was

But I can’t, because we all make mistakes

Some just eat at you a little longer

Because when I was fifteen,

I spent it learning about Graves’ Disease

And why it made me age

But turning sixteen marked a milestone

And seventeen reminded me of my strength

And that’s better than seeing your bones