You've heard of the girls

who hide secret pregnancy

under large sweatshirts

and sweatpants and anything

that could hide the destruction

that it could cause if revealed.

But I doubt your ears

have heard the new age

embarrassment

of bony thinness.

Under plus sized clothing

unseen is the ribs and hips

in the hallowed out stomachs

being described as a cavern

a black hole

Nothingness does not ache

for hunger, but it aches

depths of depression

The ones she needs have

left her.

There alone yearning only

for someone somewhere

to help her. Compliment

her. Touch her.

Care enough to help her.

As she retreats into her

own mind.

Dipping into the deepest

of depression. Insanity.

Deep sleep, or so it seems,

engulfs her. And she dreams.

So realistic a dream

she believes it.

She is sitting on a paper chair.

She is light enough so that it holds.

But yet she still feels fat.

She watches a feast.

Gluttonous people she thinks.

Eating much too much.

She sees and smells her favorite foods.

The delicacies once brought her into

spasms of hunger

now gives her stomach a

slight twinge.

She scolds herself for her imaginings.

I am fat. I am much too fat.

A hand on her shoulder,

feeling through her sweatshirt

bone. And nothing else.

But the hand does not wrench away

but stays. Rolls down her arm.

a whisper in her ear

caressing voice

speaking only of the food

only of the eating.

She is being touched.

A hand curls around from behind her.

An apple. Red and perfect sitting before her.

She reaches. Grabs. Holds the fruit in her hands.

Runs her thumb over the skin.

Holds it to her lips. The bitter redness

against her tongue until pierced by teeth

the juice explodes in her mouth

and the whiteness on her teeth, jaws

working slowly, cautiously,

remembering the memory of chewing.

Of swallowing.

The first bite is in her stomach before

she has taken 5 more.

She wakes. Or so it seems.

She doesn't recognize the room

around her. The lady above her.

Blonde hair. White dress, striped with red.

"Would you like some pudding?"

She is being spoken to.

She opens her mouth and her voice comes out

a scratchy growl.

A glass of water appears in her hand.

She sips. Feels the liquid roll over a dry tongue.

"Apple." she chokes out.

The lady smiles.

"I should have guessed."

She hands a partially eaten apple to her.

She counts the bites. Six.

"It is yours, you can eat it."

She takes a bite. Just as good

as the fruit in her dream.

A swallow.

But is it too late? Is she too late to be saved?

And she passes out.

Unknown if she will wake again.