am i too much for you?
is it that fact i have a loose screw, or two, or three
did i really need to see you through for every day you
touched me, looked me in the eye, said the fire will never die
but it did
and that hoodie fills a space between two legs,
square pegs into round holes, binge eating until you
hurt your throat
but you still devote yourself to being
skinny
and that word has plagued me for so long, like a song, like a call, and now i need to know, before i fall, am i skinny enough to be loved? is my collarbone every going to be a wishing well, will i burn in hell for the simple sin of being fat?
but in reality, the only real causality was myself
i force fed myself discipline, hoped someone
would listen, but they never did
even the shrinks said i was crazy
and that i was lazy for not going out, excising until
my skin split and a beautiful butterfly emerged
then i'd surge into battle like a goddess
but when your thighs are thick and you aren't modest,
and when you wear lipstick too thick like a woman
with double Ds and an ache between her knees
you know that if you were skinny, you'd never have
these problems, and if you did
you'd know how to solve them
to be skinny
is to be graceful
even in suicidal rages
that flip through pages and pages of stories before they rip my own
from existence
need to be kept under control and kept at a distance like
a tiger that has the taste for human flesh
but now i know i'm the best, because i have a good butt,
long legs and a pretty face
but i'm too hard to replace in this overpriced world
where girls are told to starve themselves
to a neutral, non-pear shape
until their breasts are the tip of an hourglass
their waists are too thin to last
and their eyes are longing for even the tiniest indulgence
avoiding food and any substance
that would jeopardize
skinny
but then i realized
if skinny was so important
then why did all those who were it
probably also were just a little bit away from going insane
and we were in the same boat, staying afloat together
on the ocean of
skinny
so i wrote this poem
for every single girl or woman
who needed a book or a booking
to make them feel beautiful, and by beautiful i mean
skinny
but beautiful can be skinny,
but it can also be thighs like tree trunks,
arms like rivers
and a body that delivers nothing but happiness to that of it's owner
and my body is not some loaner car you
can trash and get away with
there will be fines,
for i am fine,
but in those times, where
nothing was ever promised to me
i started to see
beautiful could mean
staying up to take care of your kids,
single-mothering and being glad your husband
got rid of himself before you could, because
you can do a much better job without the chain-smoke
and you stay woke
forever
because skinny is a construct
or it could mean
studying in waters of student loans,
feeling alone as the only girl on campus
but working hard to become a lawyer or a doctor,
she will always be her mother's daughter
i'd say words stronger than this,
but there are children here,
but screw skinny!
i am beautiful,
you are beautiful
and by beautiful
i mean anything you want it to mean.