deepundergroundpoetry.com
Drink More Milk
Am I nothing
But skin and bones?
My wrist is the same size
As someone else’s ankle
And my breastbone can be seen
No matter how I stand
Sometimes when I turn to the side
I wonder if I disappear
I cannot think of myself
As anything but a skeleton
But skin and bones?
My wrist is the same size
As someone else’s ankle
And my breastbone can be seen
No matter how I stand
Sometimes when I turn to the side
I wonder if I disappear
I cannot think of myself
As anything but a skeleton
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