I long for hip bones

Thrusting from skin

Showing the frame of the girl I had been.

I want for ribs

To protrude from my stomach

Counting each one till I can stop the heartache.

I need for a collar

Made from my chest

Shrinking until my heart beats its last.

I wish for calves

Made solely of bones

Spindly and small, made from beautiful pale tones.

I hope for a stomach

So small it disappears

Crushing my organs, I won't have to face my fears.