Ravenous

Sitting still in her dull dark den,
her stomach grumbles in search of food
but she doesn't budge, convinced otherwise,
looking at herself, bare ribs and bones
but they don't concern her, nor does she fear them.

For a fear much larger puts a murk in her mind:
an obese body, a thick rind, a grubby chubby
from an unchecked diet. And the fear
so huge, it swaddles her in a quilt,
and in the quilt's darkness
she puts herself,
a heavy body, heavier dread.

If only she would let me in,
if only she would see akin, to what I do,
if only she would look at me,
not bound to these cold callusing chains like
standards she must adhere to.

Other great works-

1

2