Is it Because?

Why aren’t I enough?

Is it because my elbows are too dry

or because my fingers are too short?

Is it the minor scar above my right eye

or because my acne rivals a high schooler?

Is because little toe is double-jointed?

or because my feet are as cracked as fresh brownies?

Is it because of the minor overbite

or that my lips chap no matter how often I reapply?

Is it that my belly button is an innie?

or that the rest of my belly is an outie?

Is it because I forgot to shave the back of my knees

or because I’m too insecure to get a wax?

Is it because I have the dreaded cankles

or because I dare to wear shorts in public?

Is it because I have stretch marks

or is it because my tan marks reflect my confidence that day?

Is it because my boobs might actually be too big

or because they get in the way when I hug?

Is It because I took the time to make al list

or because I’m still not good enough?

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Your Most Vulnerable

Insecurity lurks in the deepest part of you,

waiting until you are at your most vulnerable

before sinking its teeth into you.

For me, it’s when I get too comfortable;

blur the lines between my hopes and my reality.

I think If I repeat something enough,

it surely will become true with time.

That’s not always the case.

I try to love myself and make myself believe

That I am good enough and deserve to feel good

but that listen voice whispers in my ear,

when I’m at my peak; all alone:

“But actually you don’t.”

It’s poison keeps dripping, from sharp fangs.

The rolling rock gains momentum:

“You don’t deserve anything really.

You’re kidding yourself if you could ever believe

that you can ever be happy, find love, feel pleasure

because why on this earth would anyone ever choose you?”

Words can cut you worse than catching a falling blade.

You realize what you’ve done moments before

you feel the pain; see the blood.

Insecurities find ways to surprise you

and remind you that when you think you are at your strongest,

you’ve actually never been weaker.

 

Girls Like You

It must be nice to be you.

Girls like you that look like that-

tiny, thin, attractive.

What society wants girls to look like.

It must be nice to be able

to talk about your weight

and weight loss with ease

in public settings like the pool.

But it’s not for me.

I know everyone has their struggles,

and a different mountain to climb,

but when you sit 5 feet from me

and complain about going from

104 pounds to 110,

and calling yourself fat,

it kills me inside.

You are so thin.

You re so confident.

You are so beautiful.

I would give almost anything

to deal with your dilemma.

Because as you stated,

girls our height are supposed to weigh

one hundred forty pounds max.

You may be far beneath that,

but I am far above that

and hearing you flaunt this fact

while I am in earshot

right after I just worked my ass off

discourages me.

I wish I could flaunt confidence

the way you can flaunt your stomach,

but I can’t. I’m insecure.

And my progress is slow

and a long journey awaits me.

But please, just please

let me feel comfortable

and supported

and empowered to take it.

Don’t slow me down.

I have an extra 100 pounds

to do that for me.