this body.
Im so fat
people stare in disgust.
It doesn't matter how smart I am
or the fact that I have been told I was the greatest lover.
See,
I want to go.
I want to run!
Loose all this weight,
and have the perfect body.
Lumps on my stomach
to show I did a thousand sit-ups.
I want to woo the girls
with my stellar muscles,
and live up to my male expectations.
I wanna fix it.
I wanna fix me.
Because if love depends on it,
simply said,
i wanna be loved.
But no one does.
because I'm fat
I never wanted this,
but asthma took it's toll.
I used to be,
so skinny.
But,
good things don't last I guess.
I don't understand
why my body determines my love life.
Like, really?
I wanna fix my body.
I want to be able to take off my shirt with pride,
revealing every muscular detail,
but I can't.
"fat" gets in the way.
Pretty girls,
tell me.
Why can't I be?
Tell me
what is truly wrong with me.
I'm not even that big,
but I do have a bit of a belly.
I get so upset,
when rejection is key
due to my size plea.
I can't do this.
I wanna be loved.
But I wanna fix
this fatal flaw.
Love me?
For me?
please?

It's a liberating experience. Leaving the house for the first time in eight years without something constricting my ******* that are supposed to be shamed by society if I left them to go free range. My body is not something I will let be shamed by society. I am a grown woman and I will not be constricted, I will not be hooked in
My ******* and my body are not something that I should be ashamed of. This summer I will be free. This summer they will be free.
Summer is not only for the men with flat chests and leg hair. Summer is for the women with curves and fat and stretch marks from bearing life. Summer is for fat girls in bikins and sunbathing **** within the proper setting with no shame.
Because our bodies....no matter what size, shape or color are something to be worshiped and loved. Not constricted.
So this summer I will be free, and this summer I will finally show the hidden and best parts of me.

my subject, mrs. ((brown?))
for this speech is
going to be: obesity. ish.

you see I remember
the article you handed out to us,
loos-leafed,
fresh-pressed,
a dry white piece that told,
in simplest terms,
the most inarguable & bland facts
about !healthy eating & !weight loss!

but mrs ((whatever)), I want
to tell n and the entire
******* crisp class,
that obesity is a load
of steaming ****
from someone who’s really fucki
ng sick (you know how much
better it stinks then)

that obesity
was made to be glorified,
I don’t tell you this—
I ****** jiggle it to you,
grab my santa clause puch and
shove it at you--

tick tock
we wait for the clock
to tell us what
s to come,
except it makes us guess

--see this:
a mid-age woman, mother,
fat & previously fat,
goes in for stabbing pain in the chest, or
chronic diarrhea,
seeing stars & no energy left.
((this happens))
the doctor says,

well let’s weigh you n see
if you’ve lost
the weight I told you to lose before
remember Sharol

now Sharol..,,,, sweety…..
you weigh 55.62 lbs over the
state-set “healthy limit”k,
so we’re just gonna give u these
diet pills & I promise they work,.
all nach-yer-awl u see, none of that
waterweight ******* [! excuse my language]

and in about 3 months you’ll lose
half that overweight,
and I promise the starsll go away and you’ll
feel right tip top okay now that’ll be
$60 & come bac k in a month to tell me
how much you’ve lost okay

haha but that’s alrightright?
she was unhealthy
&
doctors make you healthy

only her brain cancer maybe, or like, colon
cancer or literally anything other obesity

kills her in about 3 months
bc the **** doctor would only
pretend that she cared
what
was
wrong with Sharol, sweety…,,,

im sharol and so are you and
so is your uncle & so is
your mother, probably
because most of us are “obese”

& the only cure for obesity
is the cure for the term
“obesity” you see

I'm seen as "****"
Or "Hot"
I'm seen as an icon
to boys' ****** frustrations.
It's my job right?
To please the male specimen.
Walk around the house in a revealing maid's outfit
or pull my shirt down enough to reveal anything.
I am to keep in shape
"Do squats, your *** isn't big enough"
"Oh my god, you're smokin' hot, babe"
"You aren't skinny enough"
"More makeup, not pretty enough"
have you ever thought of how I carry myself?
I live in a hole of social destruction,
consumption of my depression,
feeding off of my sorrows of not
being pretty enough for that "One"
well, maybe, just maybe, there is a chance that
the "one" wants me for all of me, not trying to please him
day in and day out.
I would be different if I let everyone get to me
I could be a *****,
Correction, a skinny, fake, self centered, *****.

I look past my reflection in the mirror;
whale-sized thighs, and
arms too big for the oceans
rain pours down like sharp daggers
into my flesh, and I’m tired
teeth hurt, and I’m tired
heart pounding, and I’m tired
my mermaid waves leave my head like
an old porcelain doll, dying
and I’m tired
I teach my body how to stop needing,
in with the calories, and I’m tired
out with the calories, and I’m really tired
silent screams echo at the fake reflection
that stares blindly through the broken
mirrors
**** me up, I’m seeing stars tonight
bones aching, and I’m smiling
bullets to the head, and I’m smiling
painstakingly dancing through the night
till I’m void of nothing,
they say empty is beautiful, and I want
so dearly to feel beautiful
calories scattered on the floor, like the
those scattered thoughts of everything
I used to be
and everything I am now
scatterbrain, tell me how you feel
when your insides are void of
self-love
you eat hatred for breakfast
and spit self-pity into your toilet
tell me again, silly girl,
do you feel beautiful now?

This is for people who are "overweight"
___________
Got up today,
made myself some breakfast.
Got in the shower
Looked at my body,
Saw what everyone else sees.
My belly is too big,
I tell myself
"I'm ugly"
I cry a little inside.
I put on my shirt
saw the XL on the tag.
I went to school,
watched people look at me.
Its not fair you know.
I am unable to exercise,
my asthma has almost taken my life from doing so
*twice*
I wish people would see
my pants size represents my heart,
not your superiority.
If I wear a size 27,
my heart is 27,
and you where a size two.........
I wish people would look at my eyes,
not at my waist,
and look at who I am,
not what I  look like.
I am a great person,
I do not like being called fat.
Fantastic,
Awesome ,
Terrific
person,
is who I am
I am not fat,
I am human.
Respect me.
Despite what you think,
I can kiss
I can love
I can feel
I am a person,
who has desires.
I am not fat,
No
I am a person.
_____
No one is overweight.
That is not what maters.
People need to open their mind
before their mouth.
So many magazines exploit people,
society being the same.
People judge others
by what they look like.
That is so ******.
Love the person for who they are
and NOT by what they look like

Because I’m a fat ***.
Because I was already irritated.
The way you were hanging on me.
The work I need to do.
The food in my stomach metabolizing straight to my
thighs/hips/arms/face/calves/cheeks/***/waist/chest.

Who are you anyway?
My guts were black like charcoal and twice as gritty.

**** Sundays.
**** Valentine’s.
**** fancy dinners
**** new clothes
**** sleeping in
**** food anyway.
**** being nice.
**** being sweet.

Because you called me pretty
And I can’t stand the lies that are so sticky sweet
and make messes and gather all the dirt from the air
and somehow it’s still sticky and now it’s black and you can’t scrub it off.

Because you throw around things like “love” and “forever”
and “beautiful”
but they’re too heavy for me to catch and all they do is leave me with
bruises.

And bruises just remind me of fat.

Because you still don’t know that I’m
Stupid and fat and ugly and crazy.

Because you make it hard for me to feel bad.

Because you throw around things like “forever”
and this is the only way I can catch it.

some barber once told me
i was too fat for my own good
and little me was heartbroken
his harsh words weren't understood

because i was okay when i looked in the mirror
and mom and dad loved me so
but when the barber blabbed on and on
i knew the chubby arms and legs had to go

and so i felt bad for years
until one day i suddenly thought:
i don't even go to that barber's barber shop!
i don't need to worry about the things i'm not!

“Have some chocolate.”
My first instinct is to say yes and
Devour the chocolate like I used to
Devour my insecurities but last
week I stood in front of my mirror
and traced the fat on my hips with
my chipped fingernails and I watched
my mother open up the seams on
my new pair of shorts because I was
too
big
to
fit
in.
Last night I stood in front of my
mirror and read poetry to myself which
used to distract me but my eyes kept
drifting to the non existent gap
between my thighs and I noticed how the
space between my stomach and my jeans
was gone.
maybe it was hiding from me.
“Have some dinner, darling”
my first instinct is to
devour it like I used to stuff my
my insecurities into the back of
my mind,
sorry ma, but why waste time on
food when I have already consumed
and demolished the ability to look
at my own reflection.
Sorry ma, but how do you expect
me to put food in this body that
feels like it’s tearing itself up from
the inside.
Last night I tried to count my ribs
in the mirror but I couldn’t find
them, and I wanted to feel my bones for
once but maybe they were hiding.
Last night I never went to bed and
I watched the sunlight pour in and
illuminate my body, head between my
knees on the bathroom floor and
tears streaming down my face.
I tried looking for my self confidence
but I couldn’t find it and I waited
for happiness but maybe,
maybe she was hiding from me.
I was always terrible at hide and seek.
Depression looked me in the eye
and told me I’d be happy soon.
She said sweetheart, don’t you worry,
you won’t hate yourself for long.
after all,
Dead girls are skinnier.