Under the Tree

you jeer at fat bodies

but turn to me

saying

you would never

never

never say such a thing about me

I believe you

you would never say such a thing about me

not to my face

you’re far too much of a coward

because all you see is fat

your eyes on my bones

your eyes on my skin

your eyes on my fat

your eyes see one thing

one story

that single story 

that you’ve been glutting on 

your whole life

so your jeers and barbs 

have taken on your singular story

when you jeer 

at fat bodies that aren’t me

you speak 

with the same voice 

of the jeers and barbs running 

like ladder scars up my waistline

you tell me 

my cuts are not caused by your knife

when you’ve spent a lifetime

sharpening your blade 

under the tree 

where we hang ourselves

-o0o-