the color of hunger

What if hunger had a color?
In fact, what if hunger had a face, a name, and a personality?
What would it be like?

Hunger on low would be green. It would be just bright enough to remind you that something needed to be fixed, but not too alarming.
Hunger bordering starvation or physical damage would be orange- alerting you to the problem, but not scaring you as much as red.

Hunger's face would be taught and there would be wrinkles everywhere- across the forehead, around the mouth and around the eyes.
Those eyes. . .

They would be an icy blue and as far as eyes are concerned, they'd be shallower than most, and dry.

Hunger's lips would be cracked and broken in places, so you could see the flesh inside them, and maybe some blood. There would be saliva trickling down one side of Hunger's mouth.

Hunger would have long, artistic fingers with pointy fingernails that were very clean and well kept.

She (for she cannot be anything but a she) would have long white-blonde hair that reached to the middle of her back and flowed free except for a few random braids.

Her skin would be a pale, pale white- almost blue color, translucent and unearthly.

Of course, her frame would be the slightest- a mere skeleton, and maybe even less than that. She would tremble and sway in the wind, threatening to fall over, yet standing as tall and strong as a cedar.

She would be wearing white, probably a dress of some sort, a long one that covered her feet. Only a few of her toes would poke out, her big toe would be long and skinny, and the toe after that would have a silver toe ring on it.

If Hunger could speak, she'd probably say something like "Feed me". But after a while, she'd start talking more, about other things. .

"I am lonely. I am broken, too. All but a few of my friends have deserted me, preferring a life of health and happiness. But they do not know that there is happiness to be found in hunger too".

Her words would be drawn out, the syllables stretching farther than you ever thought they could stretch. Her voice will be high and almost screechy- like nails on a chalkboard, you figure.

She may continue, "I am hard to find in my fullness. . but you have succeeded. You have drawn me out of my restless slumber, unafraid to see the horror. Oh, but you know it isn't only horror, but beauty too that mingles in my blood. You are fascinated. Self-abuse carries high dignity, eh young one?"

Her soul would be old, reaching farther than the depths of humanity. She is a god. A frightening but wondrously enticing god- a seductress.

A shiver may run through you when you first glimpse of her skeletal beauty and you may feel your heart start to pound in your chest, threatening to jump out. She will beckon, and you will follow.

That's what Hunger is.