This body will weigh down by judgments.
The scars too will be mocked and questioned.
The flab will be disgusted and hated.
Cursing the periods, while thinking, you should’ve gone out or waited.
My body
became so tiny
I could feel
my heart desperate
to survive
against my wishes
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