the beekeeper.

blubber.

a couple hundred years ago,
people would've seen me as wealthy and attractive.
today,
i'm just a beached whale,
crying, bloated, wanting to be released.
i made a mistake getting myself into this mess,
and i don't think i have the strength to slink back into the water.
it's been years since i have felt it over my smooth stomach
and between my gapped thighs.
i've been a whale since i can remember:
fat and beached.

nobody wants a dying sack of blubber.
nobody.