A thought inspired by a ghost girl
Her bones are weak and malleable and
She spends far too long in the bathroom
And her heart is stretched thin
Feeding her bones and fueling a
Love for a toddler in her tiara and
Tutu; twirling for a world of maybe
A hundred souls
A little body moving
In time to the rhythm
Of a woman far off in her dreams
Still years away from the
Emaciated young lady
More spirit than body
Still stretched thin and torn at the seams