She aches for bones

for hollow, empty feelings

in overflowing places.

Glassy and vacant eyes

hauntingly desolate.


she is air

beneath butterfly wings

she flies, head rush

only to crash-land alone.

Unloving, unloved

she craves the sunken

cheekbones of the heroin chic.

She aches for bones

for a hollowness

to replace her heart.

One less spoonful,

one less pound,

less is more, after all.