every time i look in the mirror
i see it.
the flesh desperately
clinging around my inverted belly button and abdominals,
along with roundness in my cheeks.
“Cute. Young. Cherub. Doll-like.”
but all i feel is the squishiness
my rough thumbpad securely grips
each morning and night.
tactful eyes examining,
inspecting the not so subtle fat
trapped inside the baby pink flesh of my gums.
i’m not jealous.
i lost the chubbiness once.
the slimness was my greatest treasure.
i documented my face back then,
my skin to compare with the stockpile
of daily progress photos.
i wanted chiseled cheekbones,
even if i had to carve them out
with the dull blade that resides close to my heart.
that just might be less painful than
the unfed acid in my belly
attempting to nourish my aching, weary limbs.