I hide behind a mask of hurt, insecurity and rejection.
Maybe its because I was never a boy's first selection, not having an hour glass figure really killed
my mood of looking in the mirror. Always keeping my head hanging down low feeling like an
outcast or a downgrade because I was always told so.
My parents didn't have the fanciest jobs so I didn't rock the hottest clothes to grab your attention
which in our society today it makes you different.
Nobody ever took into consideration to find out what I was about on the inside only they cared
about is how I looked on the outside. Apparently that was good enough for them to
make a final judgement upon me. But I had to disagree. Because I was fearfully and wonderfully
made by a powerful God who watches over me from day to day.
Neither did I question to say,"Why did he make me this way?". Clearly it was for a purpose
which was to embrace and love me for who and what I am today. For someone might not feel the
same. But who is to blame for I am a shamed of my outer appearance.
For every inch of my stretched skin leaves a mark of heart ache and pain I took in. Every black
scar hides behide an untold sin, as my size G breasts sits high upon my chest
drawing attention to every room my foot hits the floor.
As pimples appear on my face revealing the truth of my mistakes.