curves

She tucks her weighing machine at the back of the closet,
hoping it helps tuck away her bloated tummy,
which pushes her into eating less (Calorie deficit, they call it these days?)

She still manages to sneak a peak into her weight at some point,
(or multiple times a day)
and suddenly, it isn’t her inner voice which breaks her down,
it is her well-functioning mind that keeps her in check.

She hides (her shame) behind clothes that either swallow her up,
or the ones that hold everything together as she is conscious of her curves.

She doesn’t throw away clothes that don’t fit anymore,
she tries to squeeze into those old jeans and
tears come streaming down her cheeks when she struggles with the zipper.

She tugs and pulls every inch of her skin,
each time she looks at her body in the mirror,
only to belittle herself for having some healthy fat (not according to her).

She is afraid of the world laughing at her for the weight she carries,
thus increasing the weight on her shoulders to try and impress them.

She tries to exercise in the name of staying healthy,
but deep inside, she knows it is for the looks disguised in the name of health,
so she can never stay motivated to continue.

She comes close to accepting herself some days with reasoning,
whilst on other days, she is in a loop of self-hating.

She blames the world for making her feel this way,
though she is also at fault for not powering through with her inner voice,
which begs her every day to love herself.

Let’s hope her inner voice remains unwavering till she learns to embrace all parts of her.

mary jeana