I long for hip bones
Thrusting from skin
Showing the frame of the girl I had been.
I want for ribs
To protrude from my stomach
Counting each one till I can stop the heartache.
I need for a collar
Made from my chest
Shrinking until my heart beats its last.
I wish for calves
Made solely of bones
Spindly and small, made from beautiful pale tones.
I hope for a stomach
So small it disappears
Crushing my organs, I won't have to face my fears.