You see me,
Blurred by your myopic vision.
You judge me,
With standards of narrow minds.

I see your lips drawn downwards,
As I try on that dress.
But I see the shades darken your eyes,
At my naked folds.

Shame! Shame! Shame on Me,
For I bear stripes like Zebra’s.
Shame! Shame! Shame on me,
For providing nourishment to this mass you hate.

Withdrawn into this shell of perfection,
And starved of life.
I embrace death with open arms,
Peace at last?
But then, do fat people go to heaven?
Olivia Sose


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