queen

By: silence isn't always golden

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she dreams in her filthy bed covered in dirt and grime

(thinking of ways that she could be beautiful)

because that is the only thing that she can grasp

(within her frail, fragile hands without letting go of sanity)

she would vomit up everything from last night's dinner

(because she didn't eat tonight, she thought that she should toughen up)

but she can't

(because all the acid still eats at the pit of her empty,hollowstomach)

she wants to get eating out of her head

(because she might start longing for a time to eat ,even in her sleep)

she loathes food

(she says)

food makes her vomit

(after she eats it, because she wants to taste it before she purges it back out)

she wants to be pretty

(like all the girls in the magazines)

she wants to bear rib after rib over flesh that is barley there

(exersise wouldn't do it like puking on the marble toilet seat)

she claims she's "fat" and that is for her own good that she should do this

(even when the scale weighs 80 lbs.)

she is fragile and every thing is so beautiful

(why isn't she?)

she isn't queen

(but she will be)

when she is though

(the grave will be there waiting)

when she is queen, she will be fucking beautiful

(she will)

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author's note: i was inspired from "when i am queen" by never forgot what i lost, poetic abotion, and people suffering from eating disorders. i am not glamorizing it, just telling the raw, gritty truth.