It's Gone Now

Greasy hair, glasses extending to my nose
Like a diving board, adding to
My ever growing tall frame
Showing everyone the 150 pounds
That made my middle school self.
It’s all gone now.
The glasses are now sitting on my desk
And there are contacts sticking to my eyes.
Those size XL shirts
Are now hidden in the spare closet
An S is poking from my shirt tag.
What used to be a baby face, Grandma says,
With those Cherokee cheekbones
Rising when I smiled
Being barely visible. It was in my genes.
But turning skinny is in there too.
I do little exercise; the weight floated away.
The stomach, the fat, is now in the air.
I have the beginning of a pack, still in the works.
I see my ribs clearly when I stretch; I
Know I am healthy. I eat religiously.
Size 13 is now a size 3.
I pat my side, see those stretch marks,
They are my battle scars, my new answer
From the daily teasing and name calling
That I battled while a preteen,
It’s changed with some of the compliments
I receive daily about how different I look.
Is it better, my conscience, to feel different?
When I ask this, I mean it with an upcoming
Grin crawling onto my face.
Be careful who you’re messing with
So that Karma and the guy above
Can be as loving to you as he is to me.
Yet I was taught he’s always listening.
He heard me say to myself that my confidence
Would skyrocket and the name-calling would cease.
It has. All I have is thanks, and I’m happy to say
It’s gone now.