Skinny (slam poetry)

Their words were metal discs

When throw at just the right angle

Severed my shins and forced me to my knees on the cold tele of my bathroom floor.

Throw up my hands

Tilted my chin to the ceiling

Like the gods, the heavens and the angles would burst throw and tell me in song

that I was beautiful.

They didn't

And I was bing overdramatic I have to admit

Middle school is suppose to suck,

Right?

I weighted 20kg

Like if I stepped on your foot you wouldn't even feel it

But damn, I wanted them to feel it

I wanted to crack them open like my bones would do if I was actually a skeleton

I girl named Katy grabbed my wrist and yelled " look at Gabby's wrist it's so tinny look at it"

And I guess it could have been a complement,

But I felt like the bearded lady they put in freak shows

On side road

Starring and putting their

Sticky

Sweaty

Hands

Around the perimeter of my limb

And what about the school secretary with her loud mouth

Telling me to eat a burger

Because that's all I needed right?

I clenched my fists

And bit my lip

But if I had it to take back I would have risked the detention

And told her to eat one her self

I would continue to eat them but they wouldn't help me to gain weight

But she could keep say dumb shit

And not gain some intelligence

I walk bobby kneed the next year

Wearing pain stakingly picked out outfits to hide my hips

But all it did was give me images in the mirrors that I didn't want to see

Let alone be

I tried not to notice all that other girls in their new cloths

The same cloths that I was trying to wear but couldn't pull off

Pull off and throw in a hamper

Pull off but hide in a robe

Every thing

But what was there to see

I'd only want to look in the glass

At dance class to watch my limbs move to fast for me to scrutinise

Until they made me feel like shit

Fitting into the pink lea tard

That rejected their waist

But I think I was trying to sing when I cried

I don't cry about it any more

I'm 40 kg on a good day

And I don't cry

But when I'm dancing with a guy

And his hands find my hip bones

I feel like that 7 th grade girl again

Staring down down at them

Watching them jut out of my body

Like shards of glass

Like triangular stones

Like angel wings

__________________________

A/N

I know yes an other poem, I love writing poetry.

This was really hard for me to write as this happened to me.......💝