Poems about life.

Too big for a mind, too small for a body.

Taking up too much space. I sat on the bottom of the bathtub with not hot enough water pelleting down my back.
I saw how my legs stretched out somehow further than they used to.
I saw how much of myself existed and moved.
Somehow it's too much space. It's like I take up too much space in my existence.
And all I want to do is curl up into oblivion and become as small as my very first cell once was.
But I feel that my mind takes up more space still, like my thoughts are pushing out in every direction all at once.
I wish my mind felt smaller, that I didn't want to think about everything in the dead of night.
I take up too much space in my own universe.
But in everyone elses universe I don't take up enough room.
I need to be in a bigger bathtub and take that space up.
Because I apparently take up too little space as it is.
But I just want to shrink. As if my body is a castle I just want a way out.
It's a castle I wish I could sneak out of once in a while and come back when I feel lighter, smaller.
Because listening to my thoughts is tiring.
And seeing the same exoskeleton is boring.
And the more I hear my thoughts and see my flesh the more I'll hate it just that little bit more.
I just feel too big for a mind but too small for a body.
I live in a castle that fits my mind but not my body and I can't change that.