growing up i wanted to be thicker
I wished my skin could betray my heart
and hide my bones
in the rise of my cores
that curve slightly
below my waistline and beyond
but no
years were swallowed
in a valley
and around the alley
my body felt hollow .
Now I chase after that smoothie
trying to chase away slight calories.
Frowning at the sight of whipped cream
so my belly will not feel undermined
or disrespected .
my heart grew wider ,
opening up to voices
that told me i was heavy
and guided me to join the course
and lose the cause
and of cause i signed up willingly
allowing my mind to rot .
But not in exhaust
I decreased to taller , lighter
But I could not reach the figure
I could only seethe in magazines
Pageants , I would filter .
But my glitter
Was slightly in need
I needed to let my soul feed .
But I felt inferior
Not because of my weight
But because of the marks now on my waist
The signs
Permanent, can't be erased .
My beauty I would curse
But my body
I did waste
Now I taste the bitter clance
Of regret as it drips from my hand .
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 10:04 AM UTC
growing up i wanted to be thicker
I wished my skin could betray my heart
and hide my bones
in the rise of my cores
that curve slightly
below my waistline and beyond
but no
years were swallowed
in a valley
and around the alley
my body felt hollow .
Now I chase after that smoothie
trying to chase away slight calories.
Frowning at the sight of whipped cream
so my belly will not feel undermined
or disrespected .
my heart grew wider ,
opening up to voices
that told me i was heavy
and guided me to join the course
and lose the cause
and of cause i signed up willingly
allowing my mind to rot .
But not in exhaust
I decreased to taller , lighter
But I could not reach the figure
I could only seethe in magazines
Pageants , I would filter .
But my glitter
Was slightly in need
I needed to let my soul feed .
But I felt inferior
Not because of my weight
But because of the marks now on my waist
The signs
Permanent, can't be erased .
My beauty I would curse
But my body
I did waste
Now I taste the bitter clance
Of regret as it drips from my hand .
The art of insecurity.