i don't want this body, it's not mine, it's not mine

i don't want this body

take it please i don't want it 

i just want to feel right, 
want to not tug at the expansion of my hips, 
the sharp jutting bone there 
that my palm fits easily over 

when i stretch
the ridges of my ribcage push at my skin 
i can span them with the length of my hand 
but it doesn't make me feel any less sick
about what rounds out in front of it

my chest, yes, 
c-cup undeniable 
and i hate this with a burning passion

1 roll of stretchy bandages, 
2 sports bras,
1 open flannel shirt,
and 1 tee is the required remedy for that

but i despise it all the same

this body was not meant for me

i don't know why it got mixed up in my genetics, 
a mistake was made somewhere along the way 
and i didn't get what i was supposed to 

i am drowning in my own flesh, 
in the implications of what i am 
because the insides of my thighs are empty 
and my body pushes out in the spaces beneath my collarbones

when my stomach sends beats of pain and a shrill ache, 
i press fingers over the twin causes to try and quell the feeling 
and i press so hard that i can feel my heartbeat in my abdomen

this is the body i was born with. 

there's no getting away from it now, 
maybe a binder if i could ever manage to get one past my parents, 
and i would consider taking t 
if only because this is a feeling that i hate

because my skin isn't something to live in anymore

i am trapped. 

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed