I will lose weight. I will become skinny. I want to be perfect. I want to rock skinny jeans and have people remember me as the girl who went from a fat ass to a twig.
"You’re not fat."
But my thighs touch.
And my stomach goes over my belt.
And bracelets leave marks.
And shorts squeeze my legs.
And my shirt is tight around my stomach.
My sleeves suffocate my arms.
You can’t see my collarbones.
I don’t have abs.
My bones don’t stick out.
I am fat. Everything I am is fat.