Litany Poem
I get it, I’m short.
That isn’t an invitation
to use me as an armrest.
I get it, my feet are small.
That doesn’t mean try to
jam your sasquatch
feet in my size 6 ½ shoes.
I get it, I’m light.
and no, I do not need to
eat a hamburger.
“You have a petite frame.”
my exasperated mother says
to me at the third store
that day still trying
to find jeans that
fit my 5’1 ½ tall body.
I get it.
I don’t have curves.
But that doesn’t mean
you should say “oh my
gosh! I can fit my
hand around your
bicep!”
And just because I’m
small doesn’t mean
I’m anorexic.
I was.
Now I am
recovering.
But that’s not why I can still
shop in the kid’s section.
I’ve just always been
small.
I get it.
I know.
I look at myself
every day.
I know I’m
short.
That doesn’t
mean you
have to
be rude.