This is a poem that my friend, Veronica, and I wrote. Hope you enjoy!

Your feedback would be greatly appreciated. (:





You called me that


I opened myself up

To you,

With my exterior on display

For you,

And you called me


It was a betrayal

Of my trust

Which had clearly been





I mean,

In other words,

You're saying that

Not only do I not

Fit into beauty standards -

I also

For some reason

Am a rare objet d'art

For you to collect,


And place on your mantle.




Your mother allowed you to

Rest inside of her body

For nine months when she

Carried you in her womb.

She allowed you to

Enlarge her stomach

And to 

Shrink her confidence.

I wonder if she

Would approve of the way

You speak of

My body.




What does this jargon mean


It sounds very similar to


Which is what I'd say to you


Would that be mean?

I wouldn't want to crush

Your perniciously small ego.




I think it would be helpful

If you expanded

Your tiny mind

A bit.

Open yourself up

To the vastness

That I contain.

There is beauty

In every part of me

That you have taken

For granted.




I wonder if the fact that

The mass of my body

Is in no way,


Or form your concern,

Regardless of what your

Lazy eyed stars say,

Offend you

Because I can always

Improve myself,

But your innately horrible attitude

Is something you're stuck with?




You don't seem to understand

So let me explain something - 

It has taken years

To instill the idea

That I am beautiful

And worthy of being loved,

Regardless of whether or not

I am thin.




Is this a compliment?

From a feeble minded,

Artless, tactless -

Oh wait! No!

This is what the

Fuckboys of this

Tumblr generation

Call negging.


This may be a compliment,

But through your thinly-veiled,

Hate fueled speech,

You made it clear

That I was "too" grandiose

For your ineptitude

To comprehend.




If a thick girl

Should ever be stupid enough

To wrap her thick thighs

Around your thick skull,

Thank her

Because you do not deserve

To experience the hidden

Treasures and

Symphonies that exist

Within her.




This does not only

Highlight the fact that

You think my body

Was made for your eyes'


But that there is somehow

An astronomical difference

Between I

And some non-thick,

When in reality

Both our vaginas

Feel the same

And both our bodies

Are beautiful.




I'm done allowing


To define who

I am.

The labels that you

Place upon me

In a desparate attempt

To strip away my


Have no power

Unless I grant them power.

So let me tell you -

Your thoughts are not

Welcome here.




Doesn't mean curvy to you,

From you

It's a superlative placed on

Me to show that

I'm not conforming

To what you imagined

My bareness to be.

I could, quite possibly,

Delve into myself

And find a profound

Meaning or

Extrapolate why I

Feel this way,

But your obtuseness enjoins

You from seeing myself as

Nothing more than a

Thick Chick.




I am more than the

Vessel I reside in.

I am more than the

Numbers on a scale.

I am more than the

Calories I consume.

I am more than the

Size of the dress I wear.

I am more than the

Stretch marks that rest on my skin.

I am more than your

Shitty opinions.



This poem is about: 
My community
Our world