Anorexia - Donia Varghese

A glittery group of girls meet for lunch
In their Prada shoes and nose pins that flash a sudden sharp light.
They snack on salad – shredding the chicken to tiny bits but not eating any.
They smoke and laugh hollow laughs,
Worried their lipstick may smear if they bite into the meatloaf too much.
They sit texting their friends or deleting spam
And then stop every few seconds eyeing the boy with purple hair
Sitting across from them with a phone that’s too big.
They munch on lettuce, think it’s cool.
Closed mouths chewing delicate leaves to paste.
They leave the pudding untouched and pay with plastic cards
Before they’re out the door, a mass clacking of high heels against the floor.
Leaving nothing but a faint fragrance of Chanel.

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Donia Varghese is an aspiring writer and a constant dreamer. She has a penchant for exploring small towns and likes to meet people with interesting tales to share. Donia also enjoys writing fiction and poetry and someday hopes to write a book with a very catchy title. She lives in Toronto and owns a quirky collection of books and toys.