My
Originally uploaded by Lala Mártin
there,
she sits.
upon vintage floorboards, gracefully worn.
room.
dark, empty, lonesome.
walls.
peeling,
depleting.
like she.
she stares
at the reflection staring back
could one love such like me?
cheeks heavily sunken,
eyes dark, puffy.
thin lips.
bony arms reach towards her hair,
fine, wispy
gradually falling.
ribcage visible,
moving in sync with her breaths.
eyes fall upon the bread before her,
she despises it.
she peels off a small piece,
feeding to her mouth.
her eyes wet.
she chews.
fearing to swallow.
tears gathering.
mush makes its way,
down her throat
cheeks streaked.
she can no longer bear it.
eyes skim across her stomach,
her arms, her thighs.
fingers pull non existence fat.
then,
in her mind,
it clicks.
plate smashes,
thousand fragments.
imagining bread on flesh,
frenzy starts.
schreeching,
screaming,
squealing,
cussing.
head bashing walls.
fingers peeling skin.
fists bashing stomach.
legs thrashing.
tears pouring.
self destruction.
but at that moment
light rays
pierce through,
artfully dusty windows.
she looks up.
a moment of hope.
No comments:
Post a Comment