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Aug 2017
Every time I
catch a glimpse of my reflection in a shop window I
have to check.

Legs. Still there, apparently.
Still thin even though I
ate lunch today.

Every time I
sit down on the toilet to *** I
have to check.

Tailbone. Still protrudes a little, apparently.
Still hasn’t disappeared, isn’t
buried under fat even though I
put milk in my coffee this morning.

Softly, gently
My hands explore my back, tracing up
along my spine because I
have to check.

I wonder if I look a bit like
a dinosaur illustration from a child’s encyclopaedia:
you know, the one with the triangular bump-y things
running along its back?
Stegosaurus! That’s the one!
(I had to Google it.)

I have to check.
Written by
Diane  25/F/Glasgow
       ---, Lunar, ---, Ryan Holden, DarkParadise89 and 2 others
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