Embarrassed

Yes, I know that the way my waist has curved and widened as with it so have my sore eyes.

Yes, I know that the sharpness of my jaw has short been forgotten with shambolic pride.

Yes, I know that my love no longer handles a gaze on my no longer hollow cheeks as he hides his true emotion.

Yes, I know.

I know that criticism will come to de-crease the un-ironed collar of my folded stomach.

And my sunken scars will be scoffed at and sufficiently suffocated as my organs are.

I’m hanging over more than I’m hanging out and my head hassles me to hand her the wheel.

Which I should.

Know that motivation comes when others mention modifications of your motions.

A party of predators that push and pressure you towards the scale to punish your purges.

Brothers bribe you in turn to bash you and beneath your broadly thickened skin you bawl.

Embarrassed.