Tag: poems from my journal

• promises

  you could say

  hi pretty girl

  and i would look for who

  you’re speaking to

  certainly not this rib cage

  playing the song of

  hollow bones

  buried

  too much flesh

  bulging

  fabric too tight

  all wrong

  she’ll tell herself

  i’m  all wrong

  w a i t

  for words of kindness

  they do not come until

  aged hands from

  older me

  grasp my tiny fingers

  whispers triumphantly

  “you are not all wrong

  you are everything

  you are wonderful

  wonderful”

  

  2026.04.08