Anorexic Girl

Anorexic Girl 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 voice man ever heard. Midst grief defying spoken word she can only run and hide, cringe ever deeper down inside, avoiding some imagined threat from friend… or foe she’s never met. 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 its dread, but will not know her when we meet, walk past her crying in the street. But till she finds the strength to lay 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.