The cold gross floors

Stomp, stomp, stomp

Black tiny spaces

In shoes that stink

Im confined for hours upon hours

The rigid concrete tears holes in me

get lost in the bed sheets

The first time someone called me fat was in the 1st grade.

I have always been chubby, and I knew it.

Moreover, people around me never let me forget it.

The hollow shadow of my figure beckoned my insecurities.

My reflection swallows round my eyes like twisted hair beads and pink oil

while the mirror leaks a frightening truth

that I go mad to.

I hold the wishing in my fingers

drenched in castor, tea tree, and peppermint

my scalp only blooms red

What is a body but a cardboard box

smoothed over with wrapping paper?

A shiny exterior that beckons eager eyes,

and a sheen spiral of store-bought ribbon.