*waste of a naked girl
when I think of it, of our naked bodies lying together on
the bed, in his apartment,
it is far away. It was another lifetime.
afternoons and beers and long nights and his hands on my
body… that could not have been me, there is disparity
between me and her. Me and Her. Different girls.
She is naked and happy and lush. I am — what?
A waste of skin. A thing to be abhorred.
Nakedness does not become me anymore.
I have tried to stare this body down in the mirror,
tried to lay another picture, one I keep in my mind, of
this lush girl, over top of my reality. It does not work.
The mirror cannot see what’s in my mind;
I can no longer look into the mirror.
What a waste of a naked girl.
(i used to have a body that men adored. slender, not
skinny, shapely. flat belly, small but firm tits, killer legs.
i would kill myself if i weren’t dying already, if there weren’t
already a downward spiral happening.
there is a burden, a burden of memory, weighing me down:
it is the only weight on me. i can remember a life before this
living walking disgusting hell and it is a goddamn burden.
4 comments
Comments feed for this article
April 25, 2009 at 5:08 pm
L...
Great writing jen.. i wanna read MORE!
LikeLike
April 26, 2009 at 7:12 pm
theediblegirl
oh you shall, my dear, you shall!
LikeLike
April 27, 2009 at 4:15 am
Chris
Great stuff, relates the change in the girl – physical change – very well, and the hurt it causes to remember. Looking forward to reading more!:-)
LikeLike
January 26, 2015 at 4:03 pm
theediblegirl
Reblogged this on searching for an afflated orgasm of the heart and commented:
Short excerpt from my memoir, She’s So Heavy.
LikeLike