My body slowly wakes, taking a deep breath of oxygen to fill my lungs.
I try to reach my arms up to wipe my eyes, but my right arm doesn't move,
Because it's under your arm.
I slowly realize that I am engulfed in your body.
Your arms around me, on my waist, and tangled in my hair.
Your precious, sleeping face so beautiful.
Your fluttery eyelashes leaning against your cheeks,
Your hair in front of your forehead,
Your lips pursed the tiniest bit,
Your nostrils moving ever so slightly when you breathe.
Peacefully, your eyes flutter open, and your lips tug into a smile when you see me.
Your arm secures tighter on my waist, while your other hand softly rubs my back.
Our heads lean in, and our lips touch, ever so softly.
As soon as they move, you start to disappear.
You fade and fade and fade and fade, until you're gone.
There's no arm on my waist, no hand on my back or in my hair,
No eyelashes on your cheek,
Because your body is no longer there.
I am alone.

some days,
i let myself
love you a
little too
much

I am not writing this
to get attention
or pity
or so people will tell me
I'm beautiful the way I am.

I am writing this
because when I post a poem about
being terrified to look at myself
because I hate what I see,
it should not be added to a collection titled
Humorous.

I am writing this
because when I sit at a lunch table
without a brown paper sack,
boys should not laugh when they ask
what, are you anorexic?

I am writing this
because when I watch Disney Channel
with my eight-year-old cousin,
I should not hear jokes
about skipping meals.

I am writing this
because when you google
anorexia is,
the first suggestion should not be
anorexia is good.

I am writing this
because our society should not
expect people to be paper thin
but judge them
for trying to get there.

I am writing this
because insecurities
are not a joke,
*no one
should be laughing.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I have bad gas,
So I'll **** on you.