She's not hungry?
She thinks it as a question.
She knows the plate looks quite inviting
But she knows better.
Water will be enough.
At least for now.
Her stomach roars
But only in her ears.
She doesn't need this.
She'll just take this half full bottle.
It will supply what's needed.
She repeats the question in her head,
Feigning confidence.
It sounds almost like a song
But with the base of a nightmare
The plate is put in the rusted sink
And the water washes away her enemy.
She is a terrible liar
But all the same,
She's not hungry.
