Scars

fit in, fit in, fit in

why can't i fit into these clothes? 

my flab, it sticks out like a sore thumb

as i try another pose

bullied into shape

a square i try to contort into

haven't you heard the latest?

my dips and curves aren't what they're into

I am gangly girl with slender hips

All legs and lank and stick thin

Contortionist. My body twists

Flexible, flat chest and small

Still fits into little sister things

I, 

Am the subject of all 'small' talk

Slim always finds a way to bring fat shame 

To the table,

I’m not that way, but I don’t think I’m able

To save the conversation,

This direction it’s taken

I wait patient, 

But my body’s unforgivable,

Leads hers to early dismissal

There’s no saving this

My body’s what they crave 

Haven’t you heard the latest?

i don't blame them, truly

days trapped in these clothes, like a prisoner, cuffed

watch it fill up my head

playing on when i'll feel worthy of love

i've outgrown all their demands

i've overstepped my boundaries

hope to still fit in their hands

i'm not their baby girl 

they stand bitter in my shadow

and the pretty, skinny girl

timid, but she matters

attention seeks her out

but she's humble, fits the framework

and i'm crazy, overbearing

overweight

and way too caring

like the world revolves around me

yet a place for me? 

must be otherworldly

And it’s all,

Good and well, up until, 

Twelve and up 

When breasts start to bud

Lulled by the sway of hips and then bums

Now gangly girl in woman's world

Feels too young

And unloved

Days in the mirror is like jury and judge
Playing on when I'll feel good
Enough

i was early to the party

and finished all the starters too 

it really started when i left

cheers to a comfort, arising, anew

because i'm disconcerting

loud and pompous,

(really fat) 

if it makes you feel i'm hideous

might as well call it that

i know how you really think of me

i know because i feel it too

offended that i'm so unsightly

leering at the mirror

every vision is so vicious

painful reminder, and i'm so bitter

i look for a place

in the bin with the litter

Girls talk about the baby in the womb

While I'm waiting in my room

For my first blood to come

I was always a little late

To the party

Mumma calls it stylish

It feels selfish to hate this

Blessed body

When others warn me for

Every cheeseburger I am told to eat

Is one less for those dieting

i stand on the front line

whole life a battle

to maintain a figure

worthless, less than a penny

nothing more than spare change

begging for an inch of change

wishing i wasn't too thick for an mile of affection

wishing my waist wasn't a mile wide

wrap your arms around me 

affirm that i can fit into a place

a safe place

without feeling claustrophobic 

suffocated by mockery 

for i am just the "fat girl"

clawing at attention in all the wrong ways

yet not worth a second look

We quietly 

Tread politely 

On the eggshells of issues that

Weren't designed 

For my 

Body type

I'm a lightweight 

In this age old cage fight

I don't feel deserving of 

My dysmorphia 

Coz the ball's in your court when you've got this sort

Of body

Image

Because skinny is pretty
And pretty is privilege

But this body I'm living in 

Just doesn't fit

But i can’t help but see perfect

In what we describe as

Disfigured

if they ask i'd never tell

how i am wishing to follow in her footsteps

hoping in her intertwined paths i recreate 

one yields recovery and one is the conventional route

the conventional route calls my name

limber and thin and vulnerable and innocent 

I wish,
I had, her figure,

Bigger hips and breasts and hourglass

Curves more woman than girl

Body

She must feel like the world is hers

She must hate me

For complaining

flatten out my hideous curves

to bear any resemblance

wring out all the extra fat

her body is scarred

mine will be too, when i slice 

out the fat, 

to mimic you

all that will be left

flesh and bones, dry

the dresses that fit you

so eloquently

a fruitful selection

none left for me

my pudgy and chubby

endless layers, 

wrapped tightly 

i ousted you, away

my reflection, ward off

but you always show up

This insecurity 

Is torture

I still play contortionist 

Twisting myself into different versions

Of her
My body is scarred

I'll embody her scars

And bandaid them over my own

Anyday

Parade her flesh and bone

If only

I could trade my skeleton body

For the skeletons in her closet

You are welcome to explore mine

But inside is where I keep the dresses 

You wore that I thought 

Suited you perfectly 

But caught awkward on my angles

Edges and vertices 

I felt like a math equation added up

Wrong

Coz the night I tried them on

I invited you, into

My reflection

But you never

Showed up