My Body

I have
soft, fuzzy thighs and
tributaries that creep up my sides.
A boy tells me that my
stretch marks feel weird,
but of course I already know this.
Girls are supposed to be
smooth and small.

I have
a squishy stomach,
bumps and bruises,
and scars covering my
feet and legs.

I have
hurt this body,
hurdled threats and
insults at her,
then promised 
to be better.

I have
gone to war
with this body. 
She looks on in horror
as I fill her with
smoke and liquor,
but she still lets me
live here.

I have
hated this body,
but it is mine.

By Charlotte Smith
Visual by author

No comments

Post a Comment