I grab my thigh with both hands
because it is that fat and I
squeeze so hard I leave myself
with temporary fingerprints.

My stomach hangs over and wobbles
when I jump just like
my disgustingly huge thighs.

Don’t even get me started
on my face.
My collar bone doesn’t stick
out enough.
My face isn’t pretty enough,
it isn’t thin enough.

I’m not worth anything.
I’m not perfect.
I need to be perfect.
If I’m not perfect,
I’m nothing.

—  Too Fat For My Image