I want to be thin
I want to be so thin I get cut by hip bones
So thin my knees touch and thighs don't meet
So thin my legs bow outward
So thin my biceps don't touch my sides
So thin my hands are nothing but needles
So thin he won't put his hands on my thighs again
So thin they tell me to go eat a fucking sandwich
I was so thin they told me to eat a fucking sandwich
Yet he still gripped my hips like the Handle bars of his new ride, and I could see molasses blood drip from his hands as he told me
I looked fucking gorgeous
~stay creepy
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strange thoughts
Poetrystrange thoughts is my struggle, my strife, the bad, but also a reminder that there is good, that things truly get better.
