I used to love my curves.
My plump hips,
My thick thighs,
My ***** chest,
My chubby cheeks.
All the curves, stretch marks, and the lumps,
Especially my lumps,
Made me.
And I loved me.

Until I met you.
When we first met, you worshiped my curves.
Kissed on my chest,
Gripped my thighs.
You used to say,
“I love my baby’s fat ***,”
As you would squeeze my thighs
and I would laugh.

But then reality decided;
“Babe you should really workout some”
“*** I really think you should lose some weight”
Or you would talk of other girls,
Thinner girls.
“Country girls are so hot”
“I saw this girl today at work and she was ****.”

So now I’m looking in a mirror.
In my black sports bra
And my mixed match pink underwear.
All I see looking back,
is not
my plump hips,
My thick thighs,
My ***** chest
Or my chubby cheeks,
Not even my lumps,
Hell, especially my lumps.

I see my belly overflow the hem of my underwear,
I see my ******* resting on my stomach,
I see the extra skin around my neck,
And I notice the way my stomach jiggles when I walk.

The sound of my feet hitting the ground,
The way things vibrate around me when I walk,
My shortness of breath uphill,
And the way my thighs touch each other instead of having that gap.
That cute gap.
That gap that skinny girls have.

But now,
I cover myself more.
The curvy girl who used to wear crop tops confidently,
Now wears a hoodie to hide.
Secretly apologizing to everyone who ever saw her curves.
Her plump hips.
Her thick thighs.
Her ***** chest.
Apologizing to everyone whoever saw,
Her.

And I compare myself to every girl around me.
‘If I had her legs’
‘Her stomach’
‘Her face’
Maybe,
Just maybe,
You would be saying,
“Nerdy girls are hot”
Or bragging to your friends
“I have this girl and she’s so ****”
And maybe,
Just maybe,
You would still be here.

And I would laugh,
Smile,
And blush
And we would be happy.
Together.

But instead,
I’m looking at this mirror,
And all I see
Is a fat girl
Looking back at me.

Our eyes entwined together,
Whilst my fingers appreciate her curves.
With each touch runs a ripple,
Down her spine and beyond.
Her fingers swirl around in my hair,
Complementing them,
For the maze they are.
My existence buried in hers,
Striving to keep its identity,
Craving the honey dripping down her ***.
Her existence drowning in mine,
Like its hit by a thousand tsunamis,
All at once.
She tries her best to keep it all down,
Hide the obvious tell-tales of glee,
Her burning cheeks and scarlet smile,
Her twinkling eyes and dry lips,
But her sporadic breaths are telling the tales.
Revealing the secrets of the ecstatic sin.

6 | Heartbreak in Hatfield

I’ve been picturing skies and oceans that are Van Gogh blue with every hue.
I have frequently felt warm winds on my skin while listening to Solána Rowe.
Moments filled with love, pain, depression and heartbreak are all I know.
That black dress keeps accentuating your curves every time I look around your way and admire your figure.
We must’ve met in the past life because that’s probably why I want to love you past life.
So many warm autumn afternoons have come and gone but I still have a desire to feel your love once again.
Love may slip from your lips and drip down your chin but I never want our beautiful melody to become staccato.
Those blue jeans keep accentuating your curves every time I look around your way and admire your figure.
On autumn afternoons like these, I have felt warm winds on my skin while thinking about you.
I’ve been picturing skies and oceans that are Van Gogh blue with every hue.
I have frequently felt warm winds on my skin while listening to Solána Rowe.
Moments filled with love, pain, depression and heartbreak are all I know.

Who am I?
To You?
Do you only see silky skin,
    with hair that wraps around you,
        with slow curves,
             little freckles,
                 and warm eyes
      or do you see my soul,
          do you see how it ignites?
Do you feel the beat
        of my heart,
ready to leap,
craving life and it’s glow.
Do you feel my ache?
the burn of marks
        left by careless lovers.
Do you care?
Or am I just another token
        in your jar?

He doesn't want this to end,
This time they're spending
Together.

He looks so beautiful like this,
Head tilted, lips parted slightly
A pretty pink on his cheeks.

He's drinking peppermint tea
As is his ritual on days
Such as these.

I am indulging in coffee
Loaded with Extra Sweet creamer
And am focused on him.

His glasses bring out his
Jawline.

His gentle laugh lines are so
Welcoming.

There's an irresistible twinkle in his
Eyes.

We cuddled up and watched movies
Many of which made me cry,
Cry into his shoulder.

We shared a blanket that barely
Had room for two people, even
In close proximity.

His body was very warm,
His chest was inviting me
To lay my head on it.

His mouth tastes like peppermint tea.
His lips are as delicate as rose petals.
He is glowing with radiance.

Those days at the gym paid
Off.

His abs bring out his gentle
Curves.

His smooth skin bruises quite
Nicely.