recycle – “her body is a wasteland”

Her body is a wasteland

she swallows headstones and

slices of regret, dreaming

of the day her ribs would be visible

with some starving comfort.

Maybe then, she’d be happy.

///

The girl- her rotting lungs

breathe swollen air bloated thick

with lies that she sees

now so clearly

through newly-blackened eyes.

Her coal sight is unforgiving and the world is oh, so, so sad.

///

Fingers too weak to claw back life

she lets her skeleton fall

and hopes her bones will recycle

into a waterless reminder.

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The prompt was “recycle“. Poetry Rehab 101.

✪ Angie