#stretchmarks
7 pm like clockwork
A row of tiny, flat pearl soldiers
Gulped whole
So the dissolving of chalk suffocates the belly
Not tongue
A dozen little tablets
Now down to fraternal twins
Dark circles the colour of a bruise
Now fade away to sand
Washed away by time and sea
Angry red streaks hiss over my skin
On my thighs, my sides, my *******
Now yawn gossamer tiger marks
Proof of my excess
My will to heal
Curling fingers over my proof
Eyes black as charcoal
Glint like the night
When the looking glass
Proudly catches a hint of a smile.
Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 9:15 AM UTC
i found stretch marks on my body the other day
i started slapping at them as tears ran down my face.
"i am okay."
"i am recovered."
"they dont matter"
but now all i can think about is what men will think of the red streaks on my hips and legs
how i wont be pretty anymore
ugly.
so effing ugly.
"i am okay."
"i am recovered."
"they dont matter"
they're natural, but i wouldnt have gotten them if i didnt gain a drastic amount
i cant see past them.
i weighed myself again, too.
"i am okay."
"i am recovered."
"they dont matter"
theres more coming
i see more everyday
i cant wear bikinis anymore
i cant have *** anymore
i want to rip off my skin.
"i am okay."
"i am recovered."
"they dont matter"
Aug 8, 2020
Aug 8, 2020 at 5:50 PM UTC
There's been a disruption
in your body's
p a tt ern,
b-r-a-n-c-h-i-n-g
river ways
form a road map,
a
maternal
mosaic,
z
i
g
g
z a g g i n g
a c r o s s
peaks
.
.
.
and valleys,
******* >
bums ~
hips ~
and (~) tummies.
Vividly hued
in pinks or reds
or silver threads.
One-of-a-kind,
universal at the same time.
Glitter stria,
shiny, sparkly,
oh-so pretty.
Worn with pride!
Or do they hide?
They test you,
like any child,
REFUSING
to alter their behavior,
REGARDLESS
of how nicely you ask.
Baby's left her mark on you!
Love those lines
as artistic souvenirs,
acquired
on the long journey
to becoming a mother.
Like
Love
Letters
they always have a story.
What does your story tell?
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 8:34 PM UTC
I feel like the only person who feels so plain about my stretch marks. I dont hate them or love them they're just there. Doesnt stop me from wearing a bikini. I'm fully aware that my body is just a vessel I'm using to experience life better and it doesnt matter how I look. I love myself inside and out and stretch marks are just there. Doesnt make me any uglier. I had stretch marks on my thighs before I got pregnant, and idk why because i was always super skinny. Got stretch marks from my pregnancy. Because I carried a ******* child, ya know? What does society expect from me? I literally made life, I'm BOUND to be left with some battle scars.
If you think you are going to die of old age with a perfect body with no scars, no stretch marks, absolutely nothing gone weird or wrong along the way, you're wrong. Every mark on your body shows you've actually LIVED LIFE and didnt hide from it. Be proud of every dent, every stitch, every scar, and ****** every stretch mark. Shows you had some fun and experiences in this short time you have here on earth. Don't you dare hate yourself for THAT.
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 1:03 AM UTC
I think I'm just bloated but today I feel fat
my period is probably just going to start soon
maybe that's why when I spotted those dreaded stretch marks between my legs while shaving it totally ruined my day
it's a bad combination of insecurities
flaws I pick and pick at until it drives me insane
my thighs are too thick one day
and the next I feel like showing off my legs
my tummy is too round this week so big shirts it is
I know if I don't eat much for a couple of days I'll be happy when my abdomen sinks back in
but then I'll feel bad that I did that just to feel good about myself again
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC
i don't remember exactly
when my hips came in
but trust me, it was a lot like
free overnight shipping that brought
bigger pants
stretch marks galore
and the legs to go with them
suddenly i looked like a woman
and i didn't quite know what to
do with that
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 10:22 PM UTC
I went to that party looking as best as I can
Waited for your eyes to look in my direction
But they went over like I was air
That I went to the bathroom and just stared
I saw the scars I tried my hardest to hide
The tiger marks I have going down my sides
The ones on my arms telling me I stretched too much
Because the last guy before you said I had to or I wasn't enough
I gained so much to please him with my figure
That it just went back at me
When I look in the mirror
The sight of beauty that I wish I still had
He robbed it from me when he said he didn't like that
The look in your eyes made me feel just the same
Because I wasn't even worthy to hear you say my name
But then I looked down and just saw a glance
That worthy of beauty wasn't worth giving you a chance
I was better than you thought
And could please you even more
I worth more than a million
More than you can earn
I saw my marks
And it proved I just tried so I won't date let another one make me swallow my pride
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 2:35 PM UTC
*-he called me his tiger;
but all i see is a little girl
whose body outgrew her-*
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Don't love me for my picture perfect days
For that is not who I truly am
Don't love me for the days my hair looks flawless
For that isn't really me
Don't crave me for the days my makeup is done perfectly
For I am full of flaws
Love me for me
Love the me that has acne on her skin
And face wrinkles when she grins
And struggles to grow eyebrows
Love the me who's face goes puffy when she cries
And the me who has stretch marks on her thighs
Love the me that gets too emotional about her favourite films
Love the me that rolls out of bed in the morning, tired eyed, scattered hair and all
Love that me
For I am not my picture perfect days
I am a girl who's full of flaws
Love me that way and I will love you without pause
For I am perfect in my imperfect way
I hope you see my flaws and decide to stay
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 3:00 PM UTC
My bottom blossoms
When I sit atop the
Bed and fine red lines
Run down its sides.
If this is the marking
Of a budding woman,
Then let me proudly
Display my vines.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
Words,
Like lightning, ripping its way through my heart, jolting me violently as I struggle to compose myself.
"They're just words."
The trembling earth parts to reveal a smile, weak, fake, hiding the needle like pain the words you say cause me.
"No, it doesn't bother me."
I bite my lip, white bricks indenting into a plush garden, as the ocean threatens to overtake the beach with only my eyelashes to hold back the waves.
"Yeah, it is funny isn't it?"
You laugh about my imperfections, and I laugh with you,
hard, forced, hot air exhaling from my lungs as I blink and my mind scrambles to find ways to better myself.
"Totally, stretch marks are so gross."
Pink vines of ivy run their way across my body, and I wonder if I can find a way to hide the lighting on my thighs, my *******
"But you're still pretty though."
Your words force the air out of my lungs and I nod reassuringly, because I'm still pretty, despite all the things you say are wrong with me. Things that make me who I am, but to you are marks against me as a person, but its ok, because I'm still pretty.
They're just words, but they can make you choke, and cry, and want to change yourself, just so someone can tell you that you're still pretty.
But pretty is just a word, and I'm so much more than your definition of what makes me worthy in your eyes.
Words.
Lava building up inside me and finally getting the courage to force its way to the top, to pour out of me and cover my body in molten rock, encasing me in protection in the form of letters and confidence.
"I know."
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
Stretch marks are the body’s equivalent of the face’s laughter lines.
-F.T
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
Your words left stretch marks on me,
Not the ugly ones but the one's you get when you shed all your pretentious skin.
I look beautiful and pure now wearing them on me like battle scars,
I bathe in the sunlight as I touch each mark and remember how it felt like.
Your words left stretch marks on me,
Not the ugly ones but the one you get when your body finally finds peace in who you're.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
a cross between the sky, the ocean,
and blood; like that of a tiger, they
run the form of moral existence and the being of lifting corners on pink
and pale flesh, wanting to sink in like the visible pores
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC