My body,
she defies me.
I let her define me.
I am at war with my skin,
my bones.
The way my clothes wrap tight,
round rolls of fat.
I hunched over scales,
I cried in mirrors.
Did everything,
anything.
Smoke filled my stomach,
fog masking hunger pain.
Fingers down my throat,
tryna turn back time with saltwater and the back end of a toothbrush.
Wrote ugly on the back of pictures,
just to paint them a little clearer.
Everything,
anything,
in search of that perfect figure.
Let a boy undress me,
stood naked,
replying,
"I'm sorry".
Black rivers running from tired eyes.
Wondering where I pulled the short straw?
Wondering why?
those girls are beautiful,
Sculpted like art.
Enchanting smiles and picture-perfect tighs.
And then there's
me.
But now they figure,
that my girl,
she looks like me.
The girl whom I love most in the world.
With that smile and those eyes,
the ones that light up the darkest of nights.
I look at her,
and I love what I see.
And they say that my girl,
she looks like me.
I am still at war with my skin,
my bones.
The way clothes wrap tight,
round rolls of fat.
I still hunch over scales,
still,
cry in mirrors.
I am still at war with my skin,
my bones.
But now...
Now I wanna fight.
I wanna win.
I'm gonna fight and I'm gonna win.
Cos this girl means the world,
way more than a perfect figure or pretty picture on a wall.
I'm not gonna fail her.
No,
I won't let her down.
Cos my girl,
she deserves it all.
And my girl is perfect,
her skin.
Her bones.
YOU ARE READING
My Girl
PoetryA poem I wrote, tears in my eyes. Staring at a picture of me and her. Me and My Girl.