Eyes

Who would have thought it,
That one day, those child's eyes,
So wide and full of wonderment,
Could hold her whole world
In a stained ceramic basin?
Who could have guessed,
From child's carefree abandon
That soon she should have but one focus.
One tragic, pathetic focus.

She pours her heart into the bowl
With wretched sobs and bloodied fingers
Desperate for the emptiness of everything
To cover up the gaping hole she cannot fill
And the universe is ever expanding,
But all the while, hers shrinks further
Revolving round the porcelain demon
And a diminishing list of calories
That reluctantly pass down to her
Acidified oesophagus and withered stomach

Who would have thought her eyes,
So full of awe and inspiration, ambition,
Could empty a little more with every meal;
A splendid gift that she could not accept,
Given back, like an unwanted christmas present
On a fairground tombola.
The hollow eyes reflect the hollow stomach
And the hollow body she is so proud of.

But if you ask her,
'Don't you want something to eat?'
She'll look down at her trembling hands
And try to think, although reality is jumbled
With the fiction she keeps inventing,
And she'll spit lies at you like poison,
'No, I'm not hungry'
But her words are truth to her