Anorexic Girl

You’re only seventeen –

the light seems to shine

right through you,

peach-furred skin


drawn in upon itself

– and old.


Your moisture-dewed youth

has evaporated.

It’s been emptied

sucked clean

dried and drained.


You reach out

with snappable wrists

Your brittle bones

bulge and bow.


Your ribs vibrate

with every breath

air thrills and ripples

the whole chest cavity.


Your hands and feet

Minnie Mouse big

too big

for the fragile framed

tiny dancer.

Your hips have become

pelvic bone butterflies

that arch and flare out

from your sunken abdomen


and strangely hung

with loose folds of skin.


Your eyes like oases

in the desert of you

cartoon-cute big

but sunken deep

into your head

as if drawing away

from the sight of you.


Just a few more Kilos

and you’ll be gone.


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Filed under Feminism, Poem, Political

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