I wish I was bigger

I wish I was bigger.

I wish I had a little bit more muscle.

I wish there was more between my skin and my bones,

That my ribs wouldn’t show when I take off my shirt,

That I wasn’t made of tissue paper.
 

I wish I got more sleep.

I wish I could go to bed without dreaming.

I wish I could tell somebody that I see the future when I sleep,

And yet I still don’t know what comes next.

Every day is an answer that I don’t have the question to.

I wish I loved everything a little bit more,

And I wish it didn’t get dark so early in the winter,

And I wish that I could hug myself with arms that weren’t so bony and long.

I am sitting in the wind,

And my frail body buckles in the hard gale.

My eyes are closed, 

And morning light punctures through my paper frame