My Body Type

I am dealing with self affirmation and this poem helped me to over come the rejection I face with my body type every damn day in my own reflections of school bullying and sex trafficking.

My Body Type

 

Nothing about me

Is frugal.

 

Nothing about me

Was frugally

Created.

 

God did create me

That day with abundance

And girth of

Mass and width

--in spirit.

 

There is nothing

Frugal in my curves.

The way they dance

They have always

Been this plentiful.

 

When I walk

Into a room

My body doesn’t

Fit the square…

 

So I search for

The master architect

To make an illusion

Where I don’t have to fit

And I can run

Day and night

In rooms I didn’t

Know existed.

 

I was heart broken

Once upon a field

Of candles…

The heart breaker

Went ahead and

Lit them all for me

As he hid silently

In butane trees

Waiting to burn me…

 

All because he knew

He would never

Lose the sight

Of me…

He was frugal

But when I was around

He lit up watching

As I cried.

The day in

the field of candles

is my only holiday

to remember that dream

is a nightmare...

envisioning the heart

break

Not finding

a piece of

Clothing to wear

Besides pajamas

So I settled

For a corest

Heels don’t fit

My hips so I danced

Barefoot, and

Naked.

Alone.

 

He cried

More than me

For when I cry

I am not frugal

And when he couldn’t

I Understood.

 

Deep down

Inside my heart

Even after the attacks

I still believe I am…

God’s beauty

God’s miracle

God’s destiny…

I just wanted

To hold hands.

And instead,

I am dancing

Alone.

Barely breathing

Until the storm

Takes me.

 

My curves

Are all they see

And yet I tell them

Again and again

I am good, my friends…

Because I am not frugal

I will give you

All the love

You want.

 

I will see you through

I am not frugal in my

Decisions, and when I bend

I could pick up mountains

With that mountainous back

I did bend…

 

I bend and reach your ears

Each time I tickle you.

 

We are all so thankful

For eye sight, until

My vision meets your eyes…

The epidermal layer

Hindering bronze skin

Glowing softer than moonlight�"

 

Until I feel like an alien

In disguise of a fat blob

1950s insidious blob

horror movie - sci fi

try to make me run

around like a blob…

while the town

uproars holding

mental pitchforks

flaming torches at night...

 

I’ll admit I’ve lost

The excitement

That once was my

Epidermal layer…

but those curves upon me

are beyond blobs

still categorized by

the threat of burning buildings

far away

this time clock is here to stay

until my God gives me

the eternal get away

and I can be with him

and know that

I am most definitely

Despite stares and dispositions

Despite hatred and jealous wives

And angry porno directors

And directiors

I just need to be directed

TO my creator and

Be with him,

 by my side

To thank 

for creating me

Without frugality

In abundance of life

In abdundance of earth

And power

And KNOW

And BELIEVE

And FEEL

That I am

Extremely Beautiful.

Author's Note

it's raw but I love it, not too graphic like I used to do in college.

Reviews

[Depth of Woman]

I love the poem, but I apologize for not knowing how to break my lines efficiently...I try but wonder, as have I since age 18, is this an appropriate line break? College professors can't teach me, and I am just sitting here writing so maybe it's not that BIG OF A DEAL. :)

[Effervescent Dreams]

The poem is well written. The agony is palpable. Hope you are more in control after you vented out..........YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL..!