October

These are the facts about this poem.

It is October.
It is getting cold.
And she doesn't eat.

Laughing leaves painted glossy wriggle and jump down
to the ground.

Warmth turns into chill which seeps into the leaves
painting them a bright
orange.

And a girl smiles, while she plucks up a
jumper from the pile in her closet.

Colour deteriorates and disentegrates
into the cracking gray
cement.

She carefully pushes
her pizza slice
around her plate.

The wind slices through the trees cheerfully
branches crackling with
laughter.

She picks the plates up
scraping her food quietly into the rubbish.

Sweaters are unburied from their hinterlands
and they tug on their beanies.

She slips on a hoodie
which is loose enough to
 conceal her ghastly weight.

They giggle over apple cider dreams
and the mug teeters,
falling.

Hunger pains wrack her body
while her stomach clenches and
unclenches.

Pumpkins are carved and halloween 
is misty in the air, like a 
nightmare.

And she kneels by her toilet seat,
while she throws her heart up
crying.

And oh, how we live on.

The End

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