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Astor Mar 2016
how big am i
how big am i when i feel so small
my reflection lives in a funhouse mirror
thick thicker
short shorter
the curves of my body are as warped as the glass
and the more i stare
the sadder i get
i see every misshapen lump to my short stature
like an eagle looking at its prey

how big am i when i feel so small
when i grab a pair of jeans off the rack and i eye my size but they dont even go up past my thighs
Astor Mar 2016
it is the ides of march
and i might not be caesar but
i want to be stabbed

******* **** me
and bury me in a cerulean lake
alone and cold and kissed
saddened by the puckers of a watercolored paper
and emptied by a lovers hollow email
telling me goodbye
Astor Mar 2016
i want to eat my arms
devour my legs
my heart
every bit of my body
so that i can be a morsel of my soul
so that i can be tiny
tiny
tiny tiny
Astor Mar 2016
To see myself through anothers eyes
anothers diary entries about me
to hear that someone loves me deeply
but to feel so ******* alone
in every sense of the ******* word
all i want is to be wanted
to look in the mirror and see a lump of clay
fat thick and moldable but never quite fitting the way you want it
when i want to see a marble slab perfect and smooth rolled under
a perfectionists chisel
all i want is to be a first choice
TELL ME SOMETHING ANYTHING PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
Astor Mar 2016
and everyone i love gets a piece of me stretching me smaller and smaller until my love is wisps and dont have enough to knit myself a sock let alone a sweater but everyone in my life is warm and cozy swaddled in a mess of my knitted love
Astor Mar 2016
every word
limited to complements and criticisms
but overwhelmingly i still love you
hand to god i cant help but live in your echo
i cant decide whether i like it
im hurt and consumed with you
--

--
hail mary bluebird
kissing your cross
and spitting on my grave
snorting coke off a jesus idol
a virginal harlett objectified by every onlooker  
twirling from beach to beach
an idle drifter living in someone elses moment
--

--
the girl i love is painting for me
when oh
when can you come back for me
and respond to my teary hello
Astor Mar 2016
chilly coldy cold
**** the slush on roadside drives
taste the dust of icey eyes
lips of frost and glacial heart
snowy life  
cold colder coldest
what the ****
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