Stomach Lining

Stomach Lining
by Valerie Parente

Oh the irony
that I destroyed my stomach lining
in an effort to be thin,
that I can’t properly digest
the world I want to take in.
I did it to myself
swallowing pills for bloating
but the stomach didn’t shrink
it became agonizing.
Meanwhile we live in a society
handing out prescriptions
to ruin the appetite of the ones
without mental conditions.
The same doctors that wagged their fingers
in my direction
are now encouraging disorders
à la injection.
And I’m sorry but I don’t have the stomach
to actively listen
to those once preaching body positivity
now with the opposite opinion.
It’s almost like it was never about health
just a superficial conviction.
It’s a sick world equating deprivation
with sweet discipline.
No, I don’t have the stomach
or the interior lining
to digest the bullshit
the elites are buying.
The mental fortitude it takes
to fight disordered eating
has never been more difficult
for those of us healing.

– Valerie Parente (5-3-2026)

An Inadequate Reflection

An Inadequate Reflection by Valerie Parente

From the very core of her being she illuminated every room she walked in. In her healthiest state, her effervescent energy reflected onto all that she interacted with.
Perplexingly, as she entered a room whose walls were constructed from mirrors, she could not project her inner light onto the conspicuously ideal environment. The only radiation of light transcended from her optical form, emanating onto the boundaries boxing her in. As her being translated to the sleek canvases something equally underwhelming as it was uncanny occurred. The mirrors absorbed her energy. But this energy was not the energy that regularly brightened the moods of those around her. This shallow light was purged off of the metallic surface at the exact same angle from which it entered.
She virtually saw her own image, yet her demeanor seemed like an astral projection inconsistent of her true being. Her thriving frame of mind could not be captured by the hollow frame of mirror without warping the truth along a lateral axis. Her silhouette was inverted and her essential nature was unseen. In this limiting dungeon of a room she looked to the parallel world mounted on the walls and saw not a reflection of herself but a collection of perfectly stable atoms mocking the very imperfections that shaped her existential being. Those atoms fought to mimic a material vision, a vision far less reflective of her inner light than that of her fundamental spirit. And in a strangely empty place where a shining sheet was no more than an inherently dark plane, the optical illusion of a light-bearing presence existed.
At that moment she stopped relying on the mirror for gratification.

– Valerie Parente (10-12-16)