I pull shut the curtain of the poorly-lit dressing room
I shimmy out of my jeans to try on a dress for an event I don't want to go to
I look down at my thighs and see my battle wounds
I slip on the dress I can't afford anyways no matter what I do
It's too tight...pounds, I could lose a few
"How are you doing sweetie? How are you?"
Ever so politely "I think I need a different one maybe one that isn't so small...one not so blue?"
If only I could request those kind of changes with my life too