Body Of Me
Dear Body of Me,
I hate saying that, because more than anything I wish that you weren't my body. I wish you belonged to a criminal, or some horrible person who's done something terrible; somebody who understandably deserves such a horrible physical appearance such as you. Every few hours I look into a mirror, hoping that what I always see has changed, faltered in any way. And every few hours I cringe, shiver in disgust, or look away before I have a chance to react. How could you betray me like this? Every particle of you is fat, cholesterol and sugar and I can't stand it! Why can't you get my message? Why can't you be like all those other bodies, who follow what you tell them to do and get smaller with less fuel? Why is it that everyday I find you've grown larger, an inch more around the stomach, an extra layer of fat encircling the thigh.
What did I do that was so horrible as to allow my body to disobey me?
I won't deny that I haven't done things wrong, body, because I'm at fault every second of the day, but why is it that you must put my life on stand by to pay me back for it? I'm sorry I've been so horrible, but why can't you just shrink! I'm sick of being the elephants in every room. What I wouldn't give for just ONE moment where I could see myself equal to everyone else, and not gargantuan. I don't understand what you've done to me. First piling on pounds, then purging them up with no success, and now, no matter how much a diet, you grow larger? What am I supposed to do to make up for what I've done...