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.
