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
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
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.