Her body is a noose around her neck,
And every pound she gains makes it a little bit tighter.
And the more she knows, the more it pains her to take a single step in the bathroom before she takes a shower,
Before she takes it all off and tries to wash herself clean,
Tries to wash herself of your eyes and her lips and her hips and the way she sometimes eats a snack when she isn’t really hungry.
She didn’t think it was that bad.
She counted the chips and she measured the dip and she’d never dare go over a serving size,
And her friends say she’s looking fine.
But no one wants to hear that they’re looking fine,
So she’s alone and she’s staring at her image in the mirror with so much scrutiny you’d think she was the very first art critic to see a Van Gogh and call it ugly.
Because her body is like starry night and it’s iconic and it’s ironic that even though she’s got boys telling her they miss her and making feeble attempts to kiss her,
she feels like a meteor on its way to strike.
She’s a ship that’s wrecking or a heart that’s breaking or a fog that’s never lifting.
There’s a sense of security in the insecurity,
And she knows as much as the rest of us about self love or the lack thereof.
She gets in the shower
Author: Kati Russ
Email: [email protected]
Author Bio: Kati is a junior at the University of South Carolina studying English. She is passionate about writing, reading, playing the ukulele and taking in the world around her. She is looking forward to all of the new adventures ahead, and she wants to write the poetry that goes along with those adventures. She is always looking for light, love and the fullness of the current moment.
