What sweet youth this is
to slowly wilt at eighteen.
Where in twenty years I will be
thirty-eight.
I wonder what my hands
will feel like then.

Rougher?
Softer?
Kinder, or maybe the exact
opposite?

How many paintings will they
have created by then?
How many countries would my
eyes have seen?
How many men would I have
chosen to lay with?
How many decisions would I
have taken?

How many things bought and broken.
How many of those will I save.
How many memories will I forget in
twenty years that now seem so
unforgettable.
Legendary.

How much of my life will I regret?
How much will be left by then?

To mend what I have broken.
To throw away what should not have been kept.
To take a pottery class and learn
how to finally mold myself.

To Remember.

No, I don't think I will
No, tonight I think I won't
My stomach is protruding, though
I feel full
And I don't like that one bit
No, I don't think I will tonight
No, I think I won't
But I can't stop thinking
How my stomach passes over
My hallowed out hips and bones
No, I won't do it
But, yes, maybe I will
I don't think I can stand one minute more
This feeling of overly full
No, I don't think I'll do it now
But, yes, maybe just one time more
It won't hurt anyone
It's just for fun
It keeps the scale right in place
So, yes, maybe this one time more
My doctor told me , "No!"
She said take this extra yellow pill
And you'll feel like everything's in its place
But, no, I didn't take that pill
That pill will make me fat
So I'll toss up all I ate tonight
And then fall perfectly flat
Upon my bed
Curled up instead of
Feeling all obese
I'm done with rolls
And heaves and hoes
And ready for floats and leaps
I don't care for the stares
Of the strangers and theirs
I'm gonna do as I please