I never knew of my bias,
theirs was always clearly there
to keep me skinny or remind me
that the way I was would never be good enough
I refuse to obey the haunting words sinking into my skin
I love the way my thighs rub together while I walk the streets of Brooklyn
The way the love shows on these lumps
Shoulders strong enough to carry dreams
Like many of us, I spent years getting angry at my body for not doing the things I wanted it to do, not being the things I wanted it to be. Things I had seen would gain me acceptance.
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