I can hear it slicing through my brain,
like a sharp, stray tune of imperfect melody.
It tampers with desolate whimpers
A cry for attention
My contoured skin is peeled away
by those words

"Never will I be,
Pretty."

If I could just cut it off
like excess skin
like layers of flabby fats

If there's a liposuction
for dark thoughts
If I can tuck it
away from my tummy

I'd do it in a heartbeat.