Anorexic Girl

Anorexic Girl short poem

Photo by markingleukc

Sometimes she whispers in my ear,
a tapestry of pain and fear
whose warp and weft weave haunted days
and nightmare dreams through woeful sobs
and blooded screams; till phantoms from
a private hell enshroud me in
a chilling spell.

I’m on a tour
within her mind, where those outside
are breaking in and every thought
accuses sin in saddest voices
man ever heard.

Midst grief, defying
spoken word, she can only run
and hide, cringe ever deeper down
inside, avoiding some imagined
threat from a friend… or foe she’s never

I know more of her than of
my own, my wasted waif who walks
alone. I want to ride inside
her head and sweep it clean of all
it’s dread, but will not know her when
we meet; walk past her, crying in
the street.

But till she finds the strength
to lay the horrors of the past
and scream, “I’m me! I’m running free!”
There’ll be no woman sweet asleep,
but just the child who I hear weep.

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In the early days I imagined myself wandering the lanes of England with a rucksack on my back and, maybe, something lively in my hip-flask. I saw myself sitting on a hill somewhere, scribbling poems and, hopefully, making enough to keep body and soul together. But life isn't like that and, after a few years at sea and in the army, I found myself with a wife and kids to keep. So now, with three novels wallowing on Kindle, I scribble the odd rhyme by way of a hobby and shove it on my blog. Hope someone out there finds them interesting.
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2 Comments on "Anorexic Girl"

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Sad poem and girl but your poem certainly brought the aloneness
of people and yes this can go on to haunt you. But if she kept ringing
for so long she did find comfort.
Your poem tore at my own heart.


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