Nov 17
The pants hung loosely now,
Sagging below her belly,
Almost dropping off entirely.
The shirt no longer stretched taught across her,
No longer suffocated her chest,
But rather, fit comfortably.
She pinched and poked and prodded,
How had she ever been how she had?
Where did those pieces of her go?
She had thought she might feel less grounded,
Not so firmly rooted to the Earth,
But here she stood.
Feet flat on the ground,
Still connected as she had been.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For The Found
PoetryThis is the 2nd part of my 365 observations and comments about society, life and love throughout 2022. Come with me on my journey day by day, as I write what I've always wanted to say. There is no method or planning, just thoughts and perceptions ab...
