I’ve been running about round the park like a twat
And it’s too bloody cold and I’m too bloody fat
I’ve forgotten my gloves and I ain’t got an ‘at
And the shorts that I’m in make me look like a prat
There are dogs on those leads that are too bloody long
And the people that walk them are walking them wrong
And I get tangled up with the lead and the pup
And the dog walkers laugh as I trip myself up
I gasp and I wheeze as I trundle around
Past the kids on the swings who are laughing out loud
Cos the sweat in my shorts makes it look like I’ve pissed
And my knee’s swelling up cos I’m getting a cyst
The friction is burning and hurting my thighs
And I’m not getting thinner, they’re still the same size
I finally get home and collapse on the mat
I’m not sure it’s worth it, I think I’ll stay fat
These fingers quickly till the dirt for words buried in my mind
I can write free verse or I could rhyme
I can make haiku
Though its not necessary
To portray my heart
Struggle, I have become; I'd like to find my voice.
Amongst many a great poet, I am the furthest ripple from the rock thrown in water.
The lowest branch on the red wood.
Don't believe in such tactics as motivation; a devilish dependency lies there.
No, it must be discipline that is fair.
To write strictly; to write deliberately; to write however I want in those ways.
"Yes, but did you see the way she looked?"
Motivation from the deepest nook;
Inspiration that sings rhymes.
Free verse couldn't emphasize.
Simply put, maybe there's a time and place.
For different styles, and different tastes.
Iambic signature, saving grace.
Freely spoken, unknown fate.
I like it when people ask what my secret is
How I managed to lose so much weight
How I turned my life around
How I became what I am today
So here's what I tell them:
Count your calories
Eat more proteins
But don't eat too much
Drink lots of water
Eat healthy food
You'll get thinner
Have a goal
Work towards it
Never slack off
You'll get fit
No matter how they discourage you
Don't believe it
Believe in yourself
You can do it!
With a smile, I give them hope
The perfect weight loss plan to help them cope
But there's one burden I have to bear
That's the secret I can never share:
Follow through that plan is what I wished I had done
But I just end up puking in the toilet after every meal
Autumn hit us like a truck
Our 90 degree race was promptly followed by days of 40 degree practice
Our elbows chaffing against our shirts, nevertheless grateful for the rest,
The shelter from the humidity
I don't think I was actually breathing as I crossed the threshold of the second lap of our three mile loop
In some odd twist of fate, I'll be running in the varsity semifinals next week
As my lungs tried to tear themselves from my chest, I tried to remind myself that this wasn't my first run
I've had six months of slamming my heels into the ground, just like every other girl on this trail
I heave every time someone passes me
I think, "Just one more deep breath and I will cross that line,"
I think that my height is betraying me and my joints are grinding to a painful halt
I think that I am still moving.
I would wake up and weigh myself.
Hopefully have gone down a pound.
I would have a 16oz cup of mint tea, maybe green to boost my metabolic rate.
No sugar, of course.
Maybe a handful of grapes, 60.
Breathe in the morning air and stretch, feel my ribs, my hip bones, my chest and collar bones.
Put on my workout clothes and go for a morning run.
2, 3, 4,
5, 6, 7 miles.
Drink a big cup of water.
Take a cold shower, it burns calories quicker.
Cut that in half. 60.
Go out with my friends.
They tell me I have a perfect figure and should try on clothes with them.
"No, I don't really want to buy anything. I will just watch you guys try things on."
I start to become anxious because it's almost time for my afternoon workout.
I throw my items onto my floor and jump into my workout clothes.
I run in the scorching heat, feeling like my lungs are going to collapse, panting and wheezing.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5 miles.
Minestrone soup, 90
Do some yoga stretching while watching some TV.
Drink diet coke and munch on sugar cubes.
Final run of the day.
I must put on reflective gear because this is my longest run of the day and I will be out running late.
Okay. I got this. My legs feel weak and I am exhausted but I can do this. Slow pace. You got this.
1, 2, 3,
4, 5, 6
7, 8 miles
I collapse on my front lawn.
Panting, nearly feeling dead. But I did it.
Can't wait to do it all again tomorrow.
Parched skin becomes moist
With dew drops dripping down the back of my neck
And beneath my breasts
My face deepens like a ripe peach
As flesh disappears
Skin dissolves into
A cool exterior warms
And my body is tingling, trembling,
Buzzing like a thousand fire ants
Swarming around my thighs
Encapsulated in sweat,
This shell is a temple
One that thrives on progress
I am dirty
I am filthy
I am strong.