he plays with the bloat on my belly
pokes it, pinches
drums a beat with his fingertips
a smile on his lips
and on mine
if we go back a few years
you'd see me in tears
holding scissors, ready to snip
couldn't see myself strip
for the scars and dips
would make me feel sick
there is no pain here for me now
and i don't know how
he can stand to touch me
hold me so softly
used to scream for petite
but now i can eat
a honey-sweet defeat
of a superficial need
finally, i breathe
at least, until he kisses me
and then his face
is all i can see
his fingers rest on soft flesh
a love still fresh
i like him best
stress put to rest
when i lay on his chest
war not suppressed
but directly addressed
he doesn't know it yet
i have not confessed
but maybe he's guessed
the fear is undressed
I feel blessed
to express
the end of a sickening request
to be small
my love,
you fixed it all
you have me enthralled
I love being yours.
14:05pm - 05/08/25.
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Comments2
So nice to be accepted for who one is. It is healing. Usually gained when a mother with unconditional love imparts it as a baby and child a needed part of development. Well written
thank you!
You are most welcome
Nice: I shouldn't try to interpret poetry I am lousy at it!
But I did wonder if congratulations were in order?
yes, definitely! i am celebrating 🙂
Yea!
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