Shoulder blades like angels’ wings,

Each rib visible, each deathly,

She stands alone, frozen:

A spectre under flickering hospital lights.


Her once-beautiful smile

Turns to a painful grimace,

Her musical laugh now

A dry croak in the dark.


And as painful beauty turns to beautiful pain,

An abandoned stomach gives in,

Unfed lungs refuse to fill,

And a weakened heartbeat ceases.


15 is too young to die.

More NaPoWriMo:

  1. The air thickens with bird song | diffidence that faltered
  2. A “On Writing” Sonnet | The Bohemian Rock Star’s “Untitled Project”
  3. Some Questions From Facebook | The Tower of Babble
  4. Alliteration Apocalypse | Seasick For Thirty Days
  5. Slowly | lightning stones
  6. I’m grateful for the dark. | Life’s little mercies
  7. Ode from a Cult Member | rhythm’s nest
  8. Springtime in the City | The Jump
  9. Names I’ve Been Called | Men$aBlondEsq
  10. Question Time | Jake Reynolds

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