Starving Hunger

bulimia1

Look at the thin girl with the hungry eyes,

Sharp bones uneasy in their tight skin wrapping

Straining to slice through,

Ill-concealed by their papery prison.

Her clothes have grown to swallow her.

Skeletal limbs too heavy for her.

 

Still she begrudges her scant haggard flesh

Still she devours only vacuous dreams

Still she wrings out her empty stomach

Still she chokes out her meagre meals

Still she cheats death with every lost bite

 

Do not try to convince her

She has learned to dismiss

The squalling of her thwarted body

The throes of her famished heart

Your words are just another insidious whisper

 

So watch her wither before your eyes

See her youthful bloom fade untimely

Wonder why her fevered gaze is so blind

Wait till her corpse can no longer breathe.

 

[This poem is based on my personal experiences with eating disorders. I have watched, helpless and bewildered, as people very close to me suffered from anorexia. It had seemed inconceivable to me then how someone could have such a warped and delusional opinion of their own body image.
And then I myself succumbed briefly to bulimia in my late teens. Overcoming it was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. Thankfully, I’ve never had a relapse.]

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