The Death (Anorexia)

When I was a baby I could close the world up in fleshy pink mitts

Now the world flays the infant palms and the bones drip out in its spit

When I was small I reached up so high and grasped at the morning star

Now the wormwood topples down on me and smashes all my parts

When I was a child my bones spread out like peacock feathers alive

Now the feathers wilt like cancerous boils leaving sagging pores in my hide

When I was of age I saw a gate so wide and a path so broad for the taking

But the road to everything led to a cliff where I sprawled out naked and aching

Now that I'm old I see the light and I see it was never there

Everything leads to nothing nowhere and I don't even care