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Sep. 4th, 2012 | 05:32 pm

Infinite slump, slowness funk, baby bump
I could just stew & stagnate
Feed on the decaying carcasses of candy bars
Thinking of teetering peering drunk squinting at 5 in the morning
Lighting a millionth cigarette
Socks stood in one corner, cheap rum bottles discarded in another.
Bold fat folds potrude
I rot inside my solitude
Always so heavy, so tired, so swollen. The constant stretching sensation. Always sick. Hard to remember I'm a bouncy fertility goddess surrounded by pretty, thin girls. The fat phobias of my past try to come back and haunt me. Not today, Mr Fat Phobias. I will not succumb
To mirror fearing, bone revering.
Pregnant ho sits at the back of the bus by the window, face crumpled like a fleshy discarded tissue, sniffling, shiny cheeks, oceanic thighs.
Outside, the sky darkens from white to pearl gray.
The trees ondulate in the breeze
I feel encouraged to go for a stroll in the pishiobury, or along the river. I am so easily overwhelmed, emotionally, physically. Maybe
I will just lie here on the couch, and have a little nap.
Soon this huge huge huge huge huge baby will no longer be encased within my person. I will look at it eye to eye, feel it hand to hand, bond lips to nipple. Alongside me, or in front of, but no longer inside of. I look very much forward to jumping, running, swimming, rolling down hills, lying on my bellt. I look very much forward to shedding pounds and insecurities.
I do not let these bastards get to me, enforcing dysfunctional notions of thin upon me.
But. Sometimes.
As I walk, the sounds of thwap thwap thwap
Every moment is the perfect moment for a nap.

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