warning: body image stuff, i rarely feel bad about my appearance anymore but there you go, everyone had bad days. i really recommend not reading if you have body image issues.

***

look down at me,
and all i can see
are plains of skin
and mounds of soft
hanging off me
like heavy curtains,
and it's as though
i were growing
unfathomably,
expanding under
my fingers like a
balloon being blown
more and more until
it reaches the point
where it could pop,
debris of plastic
scattered away into
the distance. i am
huge, trapped in tiny
shell-ish forms,
massive beneath
my tight clothes.
and it's been so long,
and i know it will go
again, but each time
it's like i'm back
to square one, and
the entire journey
(those roads i've
travelled before)
is unravelling
far, far ahead.
it's all in my head,
so why does my breath
become shallow?
it's so hard to let go
of this largeness,
hard to remember
that no one cares
more than i do, and
that i don't care at all.
but honestly? sometimes,
i just want to be small.