Hunger

Can only be the desires

of the flesh.

Could only be in her mind.

She was curved, robust,

and on the brink

of blooming womanhood.

Loved was she,

but Love’s warmth

fell short of her understanding.

She passed her mirror daily,

hearing it whisper.

Not good enough.

You’re not good enough.

Thinner. Prettier. Different.

You’re not good enough

until you have this.

 

Though she heard praises

and compliments,

the raucous din of

the mirror’s mantra

drowned it all out.

Repeated in her head.

Not good enough.

You’re not good enough.

Skinnier. Beautiful. Changed.

You’re not good enough

until you have this.

 

The mirror’s mantra

became her life.

The change was slow.

Her body lost its fat

and, eventually, its baby fat.

More compliments rained down

onto her than ever before.

Still.

Not good enough.

You’re not good enough.

Her mirror hissed as

she stood in front of it,

pinching her flesh between

thumb and index finger.

She saw a girl

who was not who

she wanted to be.

She wanted.

Flesh Bones. Ribs.

She wasn’t good enough.

Until you have this.

 

With that repetitious mantra,

she ignored the hunger

growing in her gut.

Soon, her body resorted

to feeding from

muscle and tissue for

sufficient nutrients.

Love told her that

she was starving and

mere flesh and bones.

In the mirror, she saw

flesh tight on limbs,

bones as sticks and

pointed angles.

Still, she heard.

Not good enough.

You’re not good enough.

Bones. Flesh. Blood. .

You’re not good enough

until you are merely this.

 

The hunger inside her,

which did not cease to be sated,

feasted on her organs.

Love declared that

she needed help,

she was dying.

How could she be dying?

She only wanted perfection.

Before the mirror,

she presented herself.

Skin grew sallow.

Hair fell out.

Deprived of energy,

she could barely stand.

 

Is this good enough?

she asked the mirror.

 

As always,

the mirror answered,

Not good enough.

You’re not good enough.

Dead, Death. Past.

You’re not good enough

until you are this.

 

Her heart struggled

to beat.

Her mind slowed,

dull from hunger.

She struggled for dominance,

but Death sneaked up

from behind and

took her by surprise.

She collapsed in front

of the mirror,

fingers brushing cold glass.

Love discovered her,

and Love mourned.

She was dead.

All she wanted

was perfection.

Yet, all the mirror

whispered was,

Not good enough.

You’re not good enough.

You are dead,

and you’ll never be

good enough.

Author's Note

What would you give to be beautiful? Would you kill yourself?

Ellen Hopkins's book "Perfect" is about four teenagers who are under pressure, either from themselves or others, to achieve the ideal "perfection." One of the girls develops anorexia in order to be a better model. Her struggle with food, and starving herself for perfection, is what inspired this. How far would you push yourself to attain the set ideal of "perfection"?

Reviews

[VannahBanana]

E.V. This was superb (I've never used that word, always thinking it was a word for really strange old professors, but I'll give it a chance just this once). You've come to a fatal conclusion for a girl who--oh-so- l i t e r a l l y--weathered herself away. This is an excellent piece, almost... a menacing, contemporary version of Snow White's Mirror Mirror.
Anyway, this was great. I'll be happy to read more, just send a request anytime.

[Inyourshadow]

Never understood this illness as always been overweight and never cared what the bullies said as I love me and thats all that matters.
I know it's not a choice it's an illness and therefore I feel for these people as one that suffers from paranoid depression I know how cruel the inner voices can be.
The dark imagery describing this all too common condition is disturbingly beautiful, you really captured the pain and the sense of self destruction.
Keep em' coming Eve

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

Strikingly sorrowful and painfully realistic. Very well done.