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Insecurities

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Squeezing my stomach, I can hardly see my toes.
Moving it up and down, side to side, looking at the skin dimpling
cellulite that has formed.
My fat is like a mountain, bulky and heavy.
My fat is a guest that is unwanted.
I thought it would just say over night, but stayed for
Thirteen years of my life.
When did this unwanted guest even come in to my life?
Held in by my double button size fourteen jeans.
Still creates the undesirable love handles, I guess
I’ve had an improper balance of work and exercise.
A little too much work.
Trying to find my toes beyond the mountain, but I can’t.
I think I need to lose a couple of pounds.





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