Weighting For Love.

Here comes a finger, down my open throat,
Caressing a red tear on the roof of my mouth.
It swallow my dreams...
The beauty they make,
And I gag as they all come flooding back out.

Regurgitate, spit...whatever you label.
As long as the stench doesn't run out of you...
Do you know how it feels?
To weigh yourself?
Every day?
To drown in pools that echo from the toilet seat?

My breasts, balloons of puffy sorrow...
I shrink them to fit in Mom's model clothes.
There are baggy sweatshirts...
And bloodied napkins.
Hidden in the drawers where nobody knows.

Fat-face, hog-mouth...whatever you label.
As long as the tears don't pour out of you...
Do you know what it means?
To weigh yourself?
Every day?
To complain to a scale that has nothing to say?

I am waiting for love to arrive...
As each day shrinks this body thinner than thin.
Someday he will love me,
See what hides inside...

No longer trapped under flabs of my skin.