I stand naked in front of the mirror.

Every. Single. Day. 

Staring not at myself

but at one part of myself

that seems to make up my whole self

and I try to make that one part smaller.

Shoulders back, spine straight,

breath in, suck in, tighten,

until bones push against skin and organs smush inside you.

There.

Hold it.

Now you might be skinny enough.

Small enough.

Petite enough.

Now they might accept you,

want you,

love you.


So learn to breath in a way that retracts rather than expands.

Make your insides rearrange until you're flat rather than full.

Because that's what they want.

Not a body but a statue.

Constructed and chiseled and carved in their image.

Sculpted and shaped and smoothed without flaws.

Petite and pretty and polite.

Empty.

That's what they want.

So breathe in.

Suck in.

Tighten.

The marrow in my bones sings in the same frequency as yours

Our duet is over

I’m scared that

Lilies will start to bloom

Behind the eyes of my friend

I pray you won’t come to me

Bearing chrysanthemums

In your arms

I think my my heart

Is growing freesias and zinnias

A sea of yellow, white and magenta

Within this chest of mine

Oh, how I’d like to plant poppies

Can I sow your soul full of them?

At least one or a few?

I want us to last this year through

And the next, and so on

For now I only whisper:

the kind you have known for many years /

but still don't completely trust