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,