Flesh,
I despise you.
You are evidence
of lack of discipline.
You are failure
in cells and tissue form.
I want to be skinny
Because that's all I have
If I am not
then I will be
fat, ugly, dumb.
You control. Work hard.
Be more
than this.
YOU ARE READING
Petrichor
PoetryWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}