October 24, 2011
I can feel my ribs cutting edges,
sticking through my shirt.
I can hear the growling that comes from inside.
I will wrap my arms around myself twice,
share a handshake to a club no one wants to be in.
I will hold myself together,
a living skeleton.
The sharp pangs I can resist,
the light-headed feeling is easy to ignore.
But I can't ignore the shoulders.
Sticking out like angel wings,
bones fragile as a heart of glass.
Angel wings, flying me to heaven,
escaping the hunger at last.

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