The List

It's the time of year
Where people will sit at their desks
Starring out the window,
Watching frozen tears
Float sleepily to coat the already
Powdered world
And
Think about what to write
On that cliche list
For a new year.

"Go to church more"
"Lose weight"
"Get better grades"
"Make the drama club or baseball team"
Prime examples of
Normal people's goals.
But what about the lists
That no one else see's?

The ink tattooed into their chest,
Hidden away from dangerous glances
That could easily upset
A cup of fresh coffee.

Words are scrawled out
The layers of graphite
Coating the lined notebook paper.

What is written on that paper?
What are the words that will be inked into my chest?
I want my collar bones.
Scarlet red escaping my pale blue lifelines .
The desirable thigh gap.
I just hope I can live long enough
To see my collar bones.

-k.m.s-