Hunger

Written for Ms. deCastro's tenth grade World Literature class

 

A meal gone down the gutter,

knotted gut,

her mind tells her:

“Do not eat.”

Seated on the bathroom floor,

door closed, she powdered her nose

with crushed bones

on mirrors broken like her home.

To feel the rush,

to fill the hunger

of another passing night,

less of slumber.

Brightness in her eyes has gone to fade,

but this is the price she paid.

Falling hair like the rain,

slit veins, grit tongue,

a young life wasted

all for the space

between her thighs.