Thighs

Step by step,

you’re always with me

Two of a kind,

swishing side by side

—

An extension below me

the biggest part

of what holds me up

—

So why do I resent you

when you brush up against each other,

when you clap together as I sit down,

when you produce rows of cellulite

that crawl up the sides of you

—

Even though I physically

couldn’t live without you,

—

Life would be much harder

if you gave up

—

I treat you as if you’re replaceable,

something I wish I could rip off,

throw away

—

It’s unfair to you,

when everyone I’ve loved

has loved you more than I have

—

Had a certain draw towards you,

attracted to you in ways

I couldn’t even imagine

—

Some have even adored you,

wanted you wrapped around them

until they couldn’t breathe

—

Bitten the inside, licked you all over

wanted more

and more

and more

—

I’ve tried to love you like that,

tried to have that same admiration

—

But for some reason,

my brain's been trained

to hate each part of you,

your size,

your lines,

your cellulite,

your waves

—

How I wish I could change that,

as you do carry me through

when I feel myself

falling

—

I promise one day

I’ll learn what it means

to love you

in the way you deserve

—

For now, we’ll be together,

connected at the hip,

and glutes,

and knees

But I’ll never treat you

with awful marks,

undeserved scars,

or degrading remarks

ever again

—

And I think that’s a step

in the right direction