A lumpy potato with spots, folds, and flappy bulging flops
Stretch marks roam across my breasts and under my arms
I do not wear sleeveless shirts or a bathing suit
Pools and hot tubs elude me
No one is looking because I am invisible
But just in case they are, I hide my body
I do not dare put my body on display
No skiing or horseback riding or anything that requires me to
Squeeze my unruly form into something that might not fit
I would rather die than be called out on it
I never fly if I have a choice
If I do not, then I fold myself up as small as I can be
So no one has a chance to say I’m taking up more
Space than I should be — disdainfully side-eyeing me
If I have to eat in public, I make sure to eat something
Appropriate for large women to eat
Salads, grilled chicken, vegetables, water, and napkins
Cover my mouth to make my presence tidy since my body isn’t
Every angle is unflattering; double chins, wrinkled flesh
I avoid bright lights; direct sunlight is not my friend
I do not like being photographed
I do not like family gatherings or being scrutinized
Doctor visits and the scales they make you stand on each time
Clothes shopping is a chore and I desire no more
Accessories to drape from my undesirable form
I feel obliged to hug the wall when passing someone
I feel compelled to give up as much space as I can
To help others around me fill up as much as I can give up,
Which is never enough being fat
My bulges and lumps are offensive
Pizza, French fries, cheeseburgers, soda,
Doughnuts, cake, chips are not food for the fat
We learn this from thin society; we learn it from jokes,
Movies, books and all forms of communication
Our respite is one another
