The Wreckage

bulimia
She sits in her bedroom
flipping through the magazine.
She holds her stomach in
and compares herself
to the model she sees.
A little food went down
earlier,
but a few fingers
down the throat
temporarily hides her problem,
from friends and family.

Everyone can see her
falling away,
except her.
How her body
is slimming into nothing.
Nobody can tell her
she’s beautiful,
because it translates into
you looking at her.
The clumps of hair
in the brush.
A trip and fall
with no immediate response,
and the hatred she showed
to those that were concerned,
caused me to back off.

Little sis,
you have fought this battle
for a long time.
You have a daughter now
and a loving husband,
but you still deal with the
demon.
We all deal with demons.
Some aren’t as visual as yours.
Mine have been quiet
and they sit there waiting.
They hope I slip
to give them what they want.
I pray I can keep them away
before they prey on me.

Although you don’t know.
Your constant battle
is an inspiration to some
that know you.

©Copyright 2013 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved

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16 thoughts on “The Wreckage

  1. This is a very heart breaking poem. I know many people with addictions. They try to change, but it is beyond their power. All we can do is to be there with them, loving them without judging or advising. They know what their problem is.

    Cheers,
    Dennis

  2. What a tough post. So many people suffer like this and yet they can’t seem to see it themselves most of the time. It’s a really hard issue to deal with and there are no straight forward answers when it comes to getting help.

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