(or to every tall person who has ever used my head as an arm rest)
1.
fuck you.
2.
i know that sometimes your arms just get so tired just lying limp at your sides but that doesn't mean you can use a small person, like me, as a stool. i am not just some piece of furniture for your feet to rest on. this body was not made "fun size" to satisfy your body.
3.
i get that i make Kevin Hart look like a skyscraper. but its better to be miniature than be a fucking mutant sprung from eating many bowls of Miracle Grow-ios. & this tiny body is so much bigger than what you'd think. these small hands have stars in their creases. there are shooting stars across my thighs. whole planets stuck in between my teeth. my short legs have danced from hell & back.
4.
& to anyone in the future who uses my head as an armrest;
i will bite off every one of your fingers with my razorblade, galaxy teeth. & i will spit them back into your craters for palms. & give you smile that will shake your entire universe.
5.
so to everyone who has ever used my head as an armrest;just know that i have had heavier wait on my shoulders besides your sticks you call arms. & know that i have worked too hard on my hair for your elbow to fuck it up.
YOU ARE READING
Fragmentation
PoesíaFragmentation// the process or state of breaking or being broken into small or separate parts. ××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××× It's hard for me to complete my poems. And I finally decided to share some of my poetry with strangers. These...
