My Body, Not Yours
They tell me my skin isn't perfect
and think I can control it,
like it's my choice to have acne,
and I can just make it go away.
It's my body, not yours.
They tell me I need to eat more,
put on some weight, and workout.
You're too skinny they say. I can hear them
calling: "Hey toothpick, skeleton, bone boy!"
It's my body, not yours.
They say I am not good enough,
that I am not pretty enough,
that I'm not muscular enough.
But I tell them I am who I am,
and I love the way I look.
It's my body, not yours.
👁 6💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.