I boil and bubble over my clothes like steam over a cauldron
Cooking up a dreadful brew
At times unaware,  at times I am still in the body of a 16 year old
At war with her mind and body
Bones almost audibly creaking with each gust of wind
And although the world wasn’t kind to me all of those years ago
And although I wasn’t kind to me
And although older boys snarled their teeth at my protruding rib cages and hip bones hungry for a snack
I’d do anything
To get my body back

And boy, if they didn’t gnaw away at my skin and flesh
I may have been left with my beautifully rigid shell
But my insides are spilling out in soft rolls
Reflections making my head spin, the spinning of the clock, the new looseness of my exterior, my own hell
Maybe if I could do a spell I could tell the goddess how my body once fell at the hands of the Devil and it began to swell like a balloon and I’m waiting for it to pop
I’m waiting for it stop
And hopefully then
I will no longer dwell
On how much I hate a body
That holds me so well