I soak in this warm water like bubbles in a liquid, popping with each exasperated sigh.
Upset in exhaustion, that my bath couldn't be any longer than a couple, simple songs.
This is the crest of my comfort as I wash my day off of me.
Sliding off my light skin into the tub like dirt.
The only time I've ever felt 'this' good in my skin.
The corpulent parts of me peeking through the water to meet the brushes of ventilated air.
I never tried to evade it as it traced my stretch marks, I just lied there, letting myself exist, sometimes perusing them myself.
And behind this curtain, in this white rectangle, I never seen them as ugly.
They simply were just... there, apart of me.
Skin that didn't knit itself together fast enough.
Normal.
As I lied my head back into the water, letting my soft waves free, I could have imagined them as beautiful.
I think I could be pretty... if this world would let me.
I think I could be really pretty, but I know the only time I can feel it this way is in the moments where I'm "bubbles and bubbly" here.
Here, where I hum and smile in bliss, with no ignorance to check me for being me.
All my resentment is in the faucet that stopped running hot.
My hands play in the pool, splashing steam onto the bathroom mirror.
I sat up and wondered.
What would it feel like to have this feeling shared, with someone who can see me as beautiful as I feel, in this water ...that hides nothing?
But fat isn't an excuse.
I'm too young to dream things like that.
Especially things that seem so unattainable and impossible as they end down the drain, with me getting out cold, knowing that I could never be some princess-to be saved and delivered by some guy.
There are no fat princesses.
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Behind My Eyes
PoetryA posting of every poem that I've ever written ...in continuation, as I write new things and express myself. Experience everything that lies behind my eyes. I am not very active on this site and only have used it to draw out my talents and express...
