I see a grinning skeleton, a painting,

Reflected in the glass.

Eyes dark as the soul and

Empty as the stomach.

Dead, emotionless, like

Two dark voids without any depth.

Inside the body are the

Organs that fail to perform

Their service, the heart

That beats slower with every

Dying breath…

Another void within the chest.

Skin stretched taut over weakening bones, the

Well-defined ribs probing the skin,

Protruding sharply in rows

Like a cage that trap the victim, the soul,

In their deadly grip.

I see a life without any purpose.

The years gone to waste as

The organism starves.

Somewhere inside a voice

waits for its chance to

Yell out, to protest

Before the light of life goes out

For good.

Each day it gets softer, weaker,

As the disease screams out

And takes on more power.

I see the victim of anorexia,

The victim of her own demise.

The lies dipped in a deceiving, shiny gold,

The truth only revealed when no

Hope for life or salvation remains.

The hair that falls out in

Greasy clumps, no longer straining

To stay attached, the body

No longer striving to survive.

I see the skeleton and know the disease,

I see the painting in the glass.

I know the lies and the art

Of deception, for it is

My reflection the mirror shows.