I wanted to build a bonfire
for everything I hate about the world

And because I couldn’t find any logs
I burned my bones instead

Then realized there was nothing left
to throw into the flames

Because I don’t hate my mind, not really. This why
I find most of my bull’s-eyes on my body;

The only arrows on my thoughts are the ones
aimed at my internalized hatred that stems

From the acidic soil of a society that says
it’s better to be thin than to write poetry.