I am stuck;
Even in a world of "body positivity".
Continue to be lost
In my nit-picky ways.

Overcritical of
The "beautiful" rolls of my belly.
Picking at
The "lovely" flesh of my thighs.

Recovery should
Be a walk in the park.
The walk where I
Stop and smell the roses.

But it's a tiptoe
Through my every fear.

A crinkled face...
At every turn.
A piercing voice...
Invading my thoughts.

I might have
Put on the weight.
But I don't believe
Much has changed.