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Bubble

Anonymous

Poetry
Skin, still young,
Hangs wrinkled from your bone
Eyes without expression,
Stare huge,
Lost in a translucent face.
Tiny clothes,
Dwarfing a withered body
You stand beside us,
Lost amongst friends.

Retreating to your bubble,
You don’t see me
Gently reaching,
Then clutching, grabbing.
A fruitless effort
You slip through my fingers.
My words trail after you,
Fluttering, mutating,
They reach you
As all you see, hear, feel;
Distortions

It was difficult at first to try and put what I saw and felt about a friend with anorexia into words. After a while it seemed easier, and I think I could have written more. It was strange to bring the situation back and think about it, as for a long time it has been a subject not spoken about.
Whole Person Care – Year One