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A little lipstick could not hurt.
But she was eight, and refused lunch after it was on.
She thought she was "fat" now, and she wanted to be thin.

I caught her wearing scarlet nails the Tuesday after the lipstick.
Her Daddy thought it was cute. 
Her grandmother bought an eyelash curler 
And false eyelashes for her at the mall.

She wanted a waist now, and boobs. She was still eight.
I threw it all away, but people sabotaged me, it all came back.
She stopped eating food at nine, pushing it around her plate.

Pretending she had eaten something.
I knew she had not.
Still wearing lipstick, and lots of eye make-up.
It did not make her look happy; it made her look sad.

It made me feel sad; I tried to talk to her enablers. 
They told me I was wrong.
She stopped eating at nine. Saw herself as fat.
Wanted to be a fashion model; she weighed seventy-six pounds.

By ten she was diagnosed with anorexia.
An emotional disease that killed Karen Carpenter and others.
She weighs one hundred and ten pounds now.
She is five foot ten, and twenty-two years old.
She is in the hospital again, and they are trying to coax her to eat.

A little lipstick could not hurt?  She was eight, and needed to be a little girl. I am beyond words now.

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