anorexia

she says that she's incongruent, that she feels like she's been juxtaposed in life and she'll never fit the mold they've created for her and i want to scream i want to wrap my arms around her fragile, fading body and tell her that she's better than this because she is better than this "but bones are beautiful," she is beautiful, she is beautiful, i just breathe her in and i am complete i am full i am trying to convey this to her through thoughts and imperfect words and imcomplete sentences that trail off like her awkward arms and blooming soul but i am so broken over this she is hungry in so many ways and i wish i had what she needed but i am a sad excuse for nourishment i just wish she'd look in the mirror and see more than what she's seeing now that she would rub her delicate arms and a smile would stretch across her frangible face and she would laugh she would laugh and she would no longer feel juxtaposed, she would feel incomparable and beautiful, she would feel what i've seen all along.