Hey,
What do you see when you look at me?
Is it my beautiful soul?
That has been a work in progress since day one.
Or, is it my sense of humour?
(Well, I never see you not laughing when you are with me.)
Maybe I didn’t master all the trades,
But, I know the little tricks.
I know how to make my world go round.
I pay my dues just like you do.
Maybe a bit more sometimes.
But do you see all that hard work?
All the sacrifices?
All the shame, the suffering, all the laughter and joy?
That makes me?
Or do you only see a part of me,
A small part.
That part which wraps around my soul,
Like a lard filled wrap.
Do you only see my skin, my stretch marks,
My little bumps and bruises?
I know my skin and bones,
Look a little, okay, maybe a lot different
From yours. Maybe I have a bit more.
A lot more than there should be.
But, does it make me any less?
Do you really only see a ‘fat girl’ when you look at me?
Or, have you never really seen me at all?