Can’t Win

I'm skinny AGAIN

Like I was way back then

Except when I was twenty

And cutting I was never asked

If something was wrong

And now that I'm forty

And divorced

I must be snorting shit up my nose.

My weight loss couldn't possibly be

The reality that I'm no longer

Feeding my feelings

And my metabolism is, has always been,

Was fast, and this "wain" figure

Before you may seem a ghost of the girl

You knew the past ten years

But she was an extra large shell

Of hollow dreams and neglect

Now I'm thin but it wasn't purposeful

I didn't diet I like myself fine

and I get it

You're uncomfortable with whatever size

I might be because

Somehow even now

the size of my body

Explains my character.

How about my body is a container

That holds myself and

I decorate it how I wish

I grow it's size or shrink it

Based on MY need

I wash it and dress it

With my wishes

And no one else gets to decide

The things I must have done

To myself

Because......

I'm troubled

Fucked up

Drugged out

Anorexic

And full of toxins

Like if you knew me

That would be any measure

Of the reality I'd seek

How about I was two hundred six pounds

And happy in my skin

Despite the state my heart was in

And my body changed with medication,

Yoga, illness, surgery, a lack of appetite

And now I'm one hundred twenty pounds

And still happy in my skin

So please stop telling me

What box you'd like me to fit in

Especially since no matter

The shape I am larger

Than your mind

And the tiny wrapper

It resides in