i'm eighty pounds down and my skin is loose. shales of empty casing hanging from my pelvis, upper arms.
what will i do with it now?
it is still excess, still too much, still my same old problem.
hangs, folorn, from my frame, not sure how to be.
that summer i shop in stores that have never been mine to walk in to.
it is entering a portal to a world i've only ever circumnavigated,
skimming round flesh-toned mannequins posed for the beach, the city.
wondering if pretty prints and flattering cuts can exist beyond a size 8.
bikinis on the rail threaten the illusion that i am slim and toned.
their gaping homages to the idea that showing a little,
just a little
flesh, is the sexiest way a woman can exist, bring about a conundrum.
they will see.
they will see that i am still not it.
May 6, 2024
May 6, 2024 at 2:42 PM UTC
i'm eighty pounds down and my skin is loose. shales of empty casing hanging from my pelvis, upper arms.
what will i do with it now?
it is still excess, still too much, still my same old problem.
hangs, folorn, from my frame, not sure how to be.
that summer i shop in stores that have never been mine to walk in to.
it is entering a portal to a world i've only ever circumnavigated,
skimming round flesh-toned mannequins posed for the beach, the city.
wondering if pretty prints and flattering cuts can exist beyond a size 8.
bikinis on the rail threaten the illusion that i am slim and toned.
their gaping homages to the idea that showing a little,
just a little
flesh, is the sexiest way a woman can exist, bring about a conundrum.
they will see.
they will see that i am still not it.