imaginary letters to hollow bonesto the quietest one,More Like This
i long to use my flesh and bone to advantage beneath the harsh glow of fluorescent lighting, to show off angles that should not exist but do.
i yearn to feel the touch of a hand as if it were the weight of the world upon my waist instead of a soft, rounded palm.
i desire the skin of my shoulders to split and for wings to unfurl from their hidden cavities so that i may fly as if i were a bird.
these are the thoughts that will echo within my conscious on my twenty-second birthday, when the cake is moist and my mouth waters with the delight of it.
these are the ideas that will hollow my bones and fill them with air in preparation for my maiden flight.
and i tell you this, youngest of young selves: you must not allow it. stamp out these snake-like thoughts when you are still shy of your tenth birthday, before they begin to matter. let them spill into the ocean from the sink in our bathroom long before they begin to poison us both, before they can strip the fat flesh