𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖♡

𝕄𝕪 𝔹𝕠𝕕𝕪.

My body.
My running nerves.
The skin that holds these dips and curves.
My feeling of shame.
The weight I gain.
Has anyone ever felt my pain?
Or are they clueless?
To the way they've looked at me.
Stared harshly.
Until maybe all the clothes have come off my body.
You say you love me.
But no you love my breast.
Hidden despair from the pain in my chest.
Maybe my thighs?
The ones you grip.
The aggressive sensation you spout from your lips.
Or is it my waist?
Get it.
Because you said you waste your words.
Oh, trust me
You wouldn't believe the things I've learned.
My body, my choice.
Oh please, that's a joke.
The only choice I get to make is if I choose to be "dramatic".
Making it a habit
Of telling on others
But they only question being asked is
"What were you wearing?"
Was it revealing or too short?
Or maybe just the fact that "you were asking for it".
Who asks for that?
To get rectified?
Or objectified?
To be told I look pretty?
Or maybe that I need to lose weight?
10 pounds?
Maybe 20?
My body.
It's used and blamed for years to come.
And then I get blamed for not showing it off
Or trusting anyone with my heart.
But that's not what this is about!
This is about my body!
And frankly,
I don't want it anymore.

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God I'm tired of writing already.

Goodbye..