Frozen shards of ice fall from the darkness of heaven,
Merciless beads of water pelt the cold floor
Hidden by the murky light,
Beating against a pale, exposed, shivering back.
Each drop crashing against a prominent vertebrae,
Barely concealed under skin pulled so tightly the bones beneath
Had begun to break through and scream to the world a message of pain.
The feel of smooth tiles through a shallow pool
Was lost against feet too numb to tell the difference between wet and dry.
Elbows, like spikes, pressed against the hollow cave which was once a stomach,
Trying to find the warmth that always seemed to be just out of reach.
Surrounded by walls stretching to what must be the sky,
Obscured by the ever-present dusk of dwindling light.
The fragile body in the midst of the storm cowered from the terrifying scene.
But the walls continued to close in, sliding closer and closer together.
Skeletal hands raised to cover a tear-stained face from the horror,
While the dying body slid to the tiles under the puddle,
Too exhausted by its struggle to survive.
This is a sort of poem I wrote about being in the rain while struggling with Anorexia Nervosa