sometimes people tell me
to stop worrying about
my weight
like i hadn’t already been trying
like the idea of
shoving the worry to recess on the moon
wasn’t already my favorite
i carry the launch in my backpack
on the way to school
sometimes
ignorance sounds a lot like
“you don’t even need a diet”
“you’re not that big”
“life is too short to worry about it”

life is too long
to be stuck longing to be
yourself in a different way
to say “i will always be here
i will just change the way
you see me
i will be altering my first impressions
and my right to exist”

this weight is an anvil.

ignorance sounds a lot like
“size doesn’t matter”
“you’re beautiful despite it”
“you’re too young to worry.”

but too damn
old to waste any more of a lifetime
throwing dimes into wishing wells
and picking up lucky pennies
asking for self control
a smaller jean size
the relief echoes
as i walk down
the stairs
to being
myself
again
my
identity
rests within
my ability to shrink.

__ar.