The light in the room
Hugs the floor
gratefully.
She touches and kissed the world
from wall to wall when I
turn on the switch.
There are places she\'ll miss.
The light ignores the gap between my thighs
and the glossiness of my eyes.
She shivers at my sides
that ever so slightly
fall out of my jeans.
She pretends to ignore the roundness of my face
the fat on my collar bones
and the pudge of my hands
as I type out a poem
about hating my body. And I thank her for hiding my bad parts.
My insecurities that I starve strive to get rid of.
So may the light switch,
all powerful and all knowing as it is,
stay off.