Bones,
A vacant stare in the mirror
Glaring back at me,
I see you,
One two
Evidence of my slip
Respresented by those protuding bones of my hip.
I stretch tall,
I bare it all,
Six, twelve
Verification of my destruction,
Pushing out through my skin,
It\'s just some ribs,
That\'s natural, it\'s not a sin.
Icy, scrawny, knuckled fingers,
Five, ten,
I know it\'s gone too far then,
But still it lingers.
When will it stop,
When will it be enough,
You tell me I\'m not so brave,
That I have to ware myself down to the grave,
Until my stomach is concave.
In place of emotions, you give me bones,
This will numb the pain,
You convinced me it was sane,
But now all I am is empty and alone,
All I have are these bones.
E. G