Poems by Nala Washington

Hunger Games

A made up story about an annual event in which two people from each of 12 starving districts are randomly selected by the wealthy to compete in a televised battle to the death.
Now let’s not get it twisted… I’ve never watched these movies a day in my life.
But I just can’t help but notice painting poverty and white-faced makes it poverty.
So called fiction. Making a number one novel, a blockbuster movie a hit at the box office I guess being brown and hungry ain’t all that entertaining.
Our stomachs have been starving since the dawn of time
Since we were fed chitlins and licked cornmeal off our dirty fingers which became a delicacy.
Since three dollar ramen boiled hot dogs and pinto beans became a norm.
This game is only one sport we call surviving. This story is not just a story to us it is now obstacles in your path we call it welfare.
Food stamps.
Food deserts.
Is it true the USDA labeled parts of Prince George’s county a food desert?
But you call this entertainment.
As Hollywood spends millions of dollars to tell this story with outlets they call it Panem, I call it Andrew Jackson Middle School
where most kids there meals are when they enter that building and wait to hopefully receive more if they so make it to another day.
I call it Baltimore City which has more than 20 percent of people living below the poverty line and has one of the highest poverty rates in Maryland
I call it Suitland High School here most girls come just to feed their babies who now are growing up the way they did.
I call it Washington D.C. and no not the gentrified part of D.C. you have built to try and cover it’s faults and run us out I mean that one part of D.C.
That’s the real life Hunger Games.
Many on the street dressed up in whatever they have left begging, scavenging for cash.
As their stomachs growl just as hard as our ancestors did.
Do you hear it?

Skinny
   
“Toothpick”
“Bones”
“Twig”
“Noddles”
“Starved”
A lot of people talk about obesity
Being overweight
What people don’t understand is calling someone “too skinny” is the same as calling someone “too fat”.
My mind and my stomach have been fighting for years and all my heart wants is peace.
Just like I wanted another piece of cake.
Or a brownie.
Even a piece of chicken.
And maybe it’s wrong but i felt so whole being empty.
As much as I hear my stomach growling, I skip breakfast.
Sometimes lunch.
And almost always dinner.
I’m the type who doesn’t eat when she’s upset, instead, I avoid eating altogether.
Apparently I’m too damn skinny I’m told at least 5 times a day, “you need to eat”.
I always say to my mother, “I’m a big girl deep down”, but what she doesn’t realize is that at night, I don’t bother to even touch the food she has made for the family.
My friends disregard me because apparently, “I have nothing to be concerned about”.
My grandmother had to feed me as a child because I was underweight and even then I didn’t want to eat.
Some of us start early.
Yes I am skinny and no, I don’t like it.
Thin shaming is just as hurtful as fat shaming. But no one acknowledges it.
No one sees this as a problem.
I’m sorry I don’t come with a shocking before and after photo.
But I do know how many lunches you have to skip before you start feeling the way that I feel.
I do know, that no matter how many times my boyfriend compliments me on my weight, I have never felt full.
I always wanted to be full.
I’m still thinking about how much I ate last night
And I felt pretty when I was empty.
But today I feel beautiful when I am full.