fat fuels
a lifelong
battle
for beautiful.
I wage a war
with
a woman's
fattened shadow
showing
more than she
owns;
an onus
on burdened
shoulders
that should
stay locked
indoors.
things seem
so much easier
with slender
thighs
that reside
inches apart.
and how I hurt
for slim
hour glass
s hips,
slick abs,
and a set
of smiling
back dimples.
I pine for a
pair of
defined cheek
bones to brush
my pink blush
upon
and the kind
of skin that
vanilla
envies.
this girl is
not me.
God implanted
other plans
for these thick
hands;
I've been given
a plump set
of everything
and a superior
sense of humor
to laugh
at this
sick
self.
And I laugh
all day
at this
twisted
shit
I was
blessed with
when
beautiful blondes
bask in the acclaim
of everyman.
why do they deserve
beauty more than
me?
this waste of a deck
desperately begs
to be shuffled
when she holds the
royal flush.
and what a waste
to want so much
in a world where
we should show
thanks,
appreciate,
but I bend
backwards
to bask in hate.
I didn't ask for it;
I fell into this fate
and a face
I'm forced to live with,
God's gift
that I'm so sorry
to be spitting on.
I hope he can forgive
this.
