Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Paper Heart, Gossamer Skin

Like a butterfly

wings laden with rain

I’ve forgotten how to fly

My paper heart

no longer sings

the tune of the hopeful

My skin gossamer

a study in contradictions

longs for touch but fears the pain of fingertips

The siren song of eternal sleep

tries to seduce my broken body

but my autonomic nervous system

refuses to heed the call

(pump, breathe, digest)

an endless cycle which bores me

“Is this all there is?”

I scream into the void

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One thought on “Paper Heart, Gossamer Skin

  1. AnalogueMan on said:

    πŸ˜ͺ

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