when did you become so uncomfortable in your own skin?

begin to hate the folds and curves your momma would kiss

when you were a baby? the dimples on your thighs became

undesirable and dimples on your cheeks chosen never

to show themselves.

I remember wanting to look like the other girls, hunched

over the bathroom sink letting little prayers escape down the

drain. My body had become an endless winter: bad seeds for

eyes and withering plants for a tongue

it’s spring now, and I feel summer heat creeping in.

i have budding flowers as teeth and young saplings for arms.

i want to learn how to walk again and how to turn my words

into flower bouquets; have my trees grow so tall, you can

climb them without fear of breaking.

i closed my window eyes and wrapped my arms tight around

me. felt my blooming flowers stretch their necks up to the

sky and whisper softly in my ear,

“thank you”.

it.