Beautiful

She stands before the mirror
fingers crossed, eyes glued on the scale
It counts the pounds,
the number crawling upwards
Her worth is based on
what the scale displays

She sits at the kitchen table
stomach growling, knees bouncing
She counts the calories
the number always too high
She will be beautiful 
only when the total is at zero

She lies in a hospital bed
hands shaking, monitor beeping
It counts her heartbeats
The spaces carry on too long
The hospital gown hangs loosley 
on her frail shoulders
She won't be beautiful if she's dead.