#thin
I am but a piece of meat,
Sopping wet,
So plump and sweet.
Organs, bones, and flesh so plump,
Easy to bleed, scratch, and lump,
Cut me open, figure me out.
Study me, harvest me,
“For the better good,”
As I’m a mere fleshy lump.
Just a walking piece of flesh and meat,
My organs pump,
My body molds.
All it leaves are such thin bones,
Once I leave this mortal plane,
Not plump and meaty but thin and dry.
Jan 11
Jan 11, 2026 at 6:12 PM UTC
Francie Lynch gets it! (The Thin Red Line)
https://hellopoetry.com/francie-lynch/
“A poem is like a tickle,
it gives both joy and pain:
with blissful tears and tearful
giggles, you'll read that poem again.
A poem is exactly like
a damaged heart in
need of surgery:
a cut that heals,
a line that
leaves a
scar along your heart.”
F. L.
<~>
I,
now in possess
of said thin red line,
where they cut me
just so, opened
stem to stern
for a rethreading repair, a repaving
of the highways & byways of
my little blue engine that
almost but couldn’t quite could but thought…
b e l i e v i n g
it could eke by for a little longer
new observable routine,
first item of my daily rising
now includes a pre-diurnal poetic
extraction~erection~ejection,
an intro~introspection
of an
introductory, petite reflexive
contemplative
reflection
of life’s mysteries,
like enjoying that
first bang of eye~opening conscious breath and a
disruptive need to spill
a few verbal beans before the
daily dead~lines of to do’s
strangle me into oblivion
a morning dispatched
by the poet paperboy
on his cardio bicycle
with
tearful eyes,
and many mirthful
gaggles of
giggles
yep,
a tickle
too,
no
extra
charge✅
Feb 23, 2024
Feb 23, 2024 at 2:39 PM UTC
Even if it's heads or tails
either side You always win.
Your own system never fails
ev'rything else wears out thin.
____________
Oct 28, 2023
Oct 28, 2023 at 2:44 AM UTC
Tender flesh, pale & thin;
Cigarette burns pock cratered skin.
Entrails that entail, poison foretaste.
Hidden, not much to be read, that
Of false smiles, on a plaster face.
The cancer within,
Almost at its brim,
Building to the self-consumption
Surely bound to take it's place.
Jul 10, 2023
Jul 10, 2023 at 11:36 AM UTC
How much do you value
weight loss on a scale
of 1 to 20?
22
Apr 12, 2022
Apr 12, 2022 at 5:10 AM UTC
110
The cursed number
110
In bone and blubber
110
The taste inescapable
110
My thoughts are nonsensical
110
Shrink it further
110
To be skinny I'd ******
110
The burden of weight
110
All myself I hate.
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 10:50 AM UTC
Recently I came to the conclusion that our body's are perfect, it's taken a long time!
The fact is we are all truly beautiful and diverse in shape and size.
I no longer look at the symmetry; lips, forehead, broad or narrow faces, chins, noses, jaw, eyes, cheekbones, how clear and smooth is the skin; how tall or small the frame.
I've come to realise that over time, these comparisons are a form of physical nostalgia; just a combination of shapes reminiscent of the many people we have loved or admired throughout our lives, and that our body image has become a measure of our perception of our physical self, our feelings, our positively and our desires.
I've come to the conclusion that all vessels embody the beauty of the individuals they carry; because everybody is both body and soul.
Feb 11, 2021
Feb 11, 2021 at 10:08 AM UTC
Ana,
I've known you for a while,
And at first I was afraid.
I didn't know what you'd do
Or whether you could help me.
Now I don't see why
Everyone I know is so
Pressed about me
Being friends with you...
I don't know why
they don't like you.
They try to keep me away
From you and your help.
You're a kind person,
And you've helped me.
You make me happy.
You fix my problems.
I hope you can explain
Why people don't like you.
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 1:50 PM UTC
Beseeching words
genuinely rooted from
the wounded, rotten heart
whispering
to the cold, thin air of
"I have nothing left to say---"
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 1:40 PM UTC
It’s not the desire
to be like them,
it’s the desire
to be better;
it’s the need
for control.
Dec 21, 2020
Dec 21, 2020 at 5:42 PM UTC
the thin line between poet and:
******** artist
is so thin,
it is almost,
almost,
invisible.
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 2:01 PM UTC
goodnight, to the pounding rain
and tear stained skin
everlasting dreams left paper-thin
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 11:30 PM UTC
See
by Michael R. Burch
See how her hair has thinned: it doesn’t seem
like hair at all, but like the airy moult
of emus who outraced the wind and left
soft plumage in their wake. See how her eyes
are gentler now; see how each wrinkle laughs,
and deepens on itself, as though mirth took
some comfort there, then burrowed deeply in,
outlasting winter. See how very thin
her features are—that time has made more spare,
so that each bone shows, elegant and rare.
For life remains undimmed in her grave eyes,
and courage in her still-delighted looks:
each face presented like a picture book’s.
Bemused, she blows us undismayed goodbyes.
Keywords/Tags: Elderly, woman, grandmother, thin, thinning, hair, airy, emu, moult, soft, plumage, wrinkles, laugh lines, frail, gaunt, bones, winter, grave, eyes, courage, laughter, family, gathered, bedside, kisses, hugs, goodbyes, farewells, life, death, photo album, pictures, photos, photographs
Published by The Eclectic Muse, Love Me Knots (an anthology of the top 100 contemporary love poems), Nutty Stories (South Africa), Black Medina, The New Formalist, Better Than Starbucks, Potcake Chapbooks, Strange Roads, Sonnetto Poesia, Litera (UK), Poems About, Poetry Life & Times, MahMag (in a Farsi translation by Dr. Mahnaz Badihian), Somewhere Along The Beaten Path (Anthology), Freshet, Life & Legends, Famous Poets & Poems, Short Quotes & Poems (listed in the top 10 short poems) and Victorian Violet Press. “See” won 3rd place in the 2003 Writer’s Digest Rhyming Poetry contest, out of over 18,000 overall entries, and was published in Writer’s Digest’s The Year’s Best Writing.
Mar 6, 2020
Mar 6, 2020 at 4:44 AM UTC
Skeleton!
Tell us what you lack ...
the ability to love,
your flesh so slack?
Will we frighten you,
grown as pale & unsound ...
when we also haunt
the unhallowed ground?
Keywords/Tags: Halloween, skeleton, pale, haunt, grave, graveyard, unhallowed, ground, thin, kin, frighten, frightening, scary, horror, terror, slack, flesh, fleshless, bone, bony, unsound, haunting
Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 5:19 AM UTC
You listen to me
But you don't hear me at all
I'm not so sure you heard
My screams and my bawls
You left me to sit here,
Watch me crumble and fall
Now I'm positive
You don't care at all
Because you never pick
Up the phone when I call
Now I'll sit here alone
And talk to these
Paper thin walls
Jan 12, 2020
Jan 12, 2020 at 10:21 AM UTC
Love turns to face Hate
And at the altar says
"I am yours and you are mine "
Hate doesn't respond
Knowing similar sames
And marital fate
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 12:47 PM UTC
I cup a paper likeness in my hand
A flower, you say, but it's dusted
In prussian blue that stings my eyes
The colour of the end of movies, twilight
Mirrored in the smoky Thames
How can it be a flower? It doesn't breathe
I call it an onion
It spreads its biting petals out in agreement
A reminder of what it is to cry
Halfway through a song even though
I've only just finished laughing
Alcohol will do that
You name it "flower"
After your mother's smile, perhaps,
Or the gentle drift of lightning
In a summer storm, but to me
It is only a vegetable, round, familiar,
Painful with nostalgia, not saccharine
With some aesthetic pinterest sentiment
I grab a stranger's cigarette ****
Litter the paper creation with ashes, watch
The silky tissue wither
Like blind marble turning grey with age
This is what I think of your flower
How can you be happy, hang it on your wall
It's so thin, so bitter and dead
Where is the romance? Confusion rises with the fire
How can you be happy when this is fake
The warmth ****** my fingertips
I stamp it out just in time on the street
Look, the paper
It's crumpled
This is what I think of your flower
This is what I think of your happiness.
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 9:38 AM UTC
i never seem
to get enough
rest
these days
always waking
up
tired
to start coffee,
****
fix my hair,
sit in bed drinking
the coffee
plumbing the depths
for
ways to get through
another day,
****
try to remember ways
that worked
before
maybe a quote
or a character
a poem
a song
a memory
an illusion
could even be
another person
but time draws
ever nearer
ever closer
until
at last
that silent cheetah
is sprinting
before i know it
i'm sitting
in my car
turning the key
with whatever
semblance and steel
i finally gathered
-a real live
cubist representation
of my
self
driving to work
at 3:49 a.m.
passing
three black cats
in
the street
that watch me
carefully,
the glowing night
white-hot
in their eyes
satellites of some
indifferent future
hidden with
the devils
on the horizon
Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 7:09 PM UTC
Bought somethings that you want
Hated the things that you need
It's all pretty and fun
Puckering up your small *** lips
But once the sun hit
You can't refund it.
You felt uncomfortable in your own skin
And your body is too ************* thin
But just so you know
That women and men
Aren't supposed to be treated like this.
God made us perfect in every inch
Of our face, of our legs, of our hands
But beauty is all that people dreams
Perfect is all that people think.
If you aspire to renovate every inch of your body,
Then where's the girl that she used to be?
Where's the guy that I used to see?
Where's the heart that used to be free?
Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC
if it hurts
you’re doing it right.
graceful arms, girls.
pointed feet.
plié, plié…
first position, long legs, extend your necks- yes, that’s right.
i just wanna look like a ballerina again.
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 10:29 AM UTC
I wanna hear my stomach collapse
Rumbling like screams echoing in an empty tavern
I want stalactite ribs
And stick-man fingers,
Thighs the size of a child’s wrist and
I don’t care what I have to do
To get it
I am obsessed.
Addicted to falling,
Falling numbers,
Falling deeper into disorder, disrepair,
Falling for a girl named Ana
Who tells me I can have everything that I want
For easy daily payments of pain and despair.
But, it feels oh so good to be hungry.
Aches and pains make me high,
And sure, it’s scary knowing I could die but
At this point…
Maybe I’d be okay with that if I get to live one day
At 100 pounds.
What is wrong with me?
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 10:19 AM UTC
Checking in
to weigh in
the weight
of years
waiting
to burn
off
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 5:44 AM UTC