Date of entry: 6.27.23
Three walls
One curtain.
"How does it look?"
A call from mom.
Wiggle wiggle,
Jump up and down,
Suck it in!
A dance a fat girl knows all too well.
Jeans.
Yup, that's it
One word.
Jeans.
If you know, you know.
The excited voices
Of other girls
Echo through
The fitting rooms.
Everything fits
They have options
Their only complaint:
"Should I get the blue ones or the black?"
"Come on out.
Let me see."
A mother's request
Your worst nightmare
Yes,
Let's put on display
Our prize winning
Pig.
The button's cutting into you
You can barely breathe
Zipper's bursting
At the seems
Legs are like sausages
Stomach is a muffin top
Arms look like hams,
You're the walking breakfast buffet.
Your embarrassment is loud
But you stay silent
No words
Or you'll burst in to tears.
You rip them off
Hang them back on the hanger
Put on your stretched out ones
And open the curtain.
"Let's go."
YOU ARE READING
Plus Size Prisoner of Society
PoesíaThis is a collection of poems from a fat girl's diary. Come spend a day in my shoes... or should I say curves?
