It is midnight and I am getting a haircut on the lawn.
I am tired, but I shiver with excitement.
Gentle hands tug and snip at my curls,
And as they fall they take root in the grass.
I will never remember this happening to me,
Save for lonely forgotten dreams and
The strange feelings of Deja Vu that I feel
Any time I go to the barber shop.
I hung in the sky, frowning down at the city below me
Scowling because Peter Pan went away.
I had stretched, and my body had run away
In the years since then.
It is one A.M.
I am depressed, on insta.
Oh, to lead their lives
Instead
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.
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