I am not a “before” photo

Get out of here

With the notion

That I live to change…

That I must be unsatisfied

With my life

Because I don’t fit (literally)

Into your cookie-cutter definition

Of beauty.

Listen to me,

I’ll say it real slow

So it’s easier for you to follow…

I. AM. NOT. A. “BEFORE” PHOTO.

Because this weight I wear

In my derriere

Isn’t worn in despair.

And this body of mine

Will NEVER be the blueprint

For your weight loss advertisement.

And these tiny lines

Showing signs

Around my eyes

That I’ve survived

To thirty-five

Are nothing to hide.

This face of mine

Is NOT a place

To be saved

From the privilege

Of age.

And this skin

With all of its distinction,

Wraps me proudly

With the memories

Of every scarred accessory.

This flesh of mine

Is NOT a display

For things

That need to be changed.

So don’t place expectations

On me physically

Because there’s only one thing

You can expect from me permanently…

I will wake up

And happily

Exist in this body tomorrow.

I will embrace myself

As I am

And I won’t let go,

Because I am NOT

A mother fucking “before” photo.