Dear me,

One day, you’ll see,
That a small meal makes a victory.
But until then,
Again and again,
You’ll keep purging,
And pinching,
And dreaming;
That one day,
You’ll be just as skinny,
As you wish you could be.

A soul is calibrated to one’s self;
Nothing else can be as honed.
Although phantasmal in sense,
A spirit feels foreign
In a container unknown.
I was trapped,
Succumb to rigmarole,
Living a life that was not my own.
Fortune was not in my eyes;
A posthumous glare
Certainly shone.
I was deceived,
By he who I thought
Was known.
Although it seemed,
This body has grown,
On me,
A victim of con I was,
And I had become
Longing, and alone.

One
Single
Sentence,
Said off hand,
Yet,
It
Took
Hold,
Caressing,
No,
Smothering.
“Maybe,
You just weren’t
Paying
Much
Attention,
In the first place.”
“He
Obviously
Likes you.”
One
Single
Phrase,
Tearing away,
At
My
Heart.
“No, don’t be sorry.”
But obviously,
I
Should
Be.
The small scuffle,
Of
Our
Love.
“I love you.”
“I
Love
You
Too.”

I was growing a garden,
One filled with childish hopes and dreams.
Then, at the peak of my age,
I found that the garden that I had tended,
Was trampled with generations.

Now,
You see,
Society has changed us.
Salesmen are now the worshipped,
And the pastors the wronged.
Who knows what will happen next,
Maybe we’ll be speaking dog.

She claims she feels no pain,
That society has no effect on her.
Yet, red lines scatter along her body,
And a thinning body screams for aid.
See past her lies,
She needs your help.

I think of a time,
Where every man is alive,
Where dreams flourish,
And nothing dies.
I think,
Because I am human