Bits and Pieces

My eyes are too buggy.

My forehead too big.

My hair is unruly.

It looks like a wig.

 

My breasts are not perky.

My stomach protrudes.

Thighs shaped like tree trunks.

Accompanied by dimpled glutes. 

 

My skin heavily scared,

And stretched so tight.

Over the bulky frame of my girth,

Nothing shaped quite right.

 

My feet are to small,

As if unable to stand at all.

Slightly on tippy toe,

I've learned to lean just so.

 

A lingering stare into a mirror,

Loathing every bit and part of me.

A living portrait of my own worst enemy.

What ever will become of me.

 

One day most assuredly,
I will develop a healthier perception of me.

And I will stare into that mirror...you see,

With a brand new ability to love the entire me.