it’s not that you were brutish but that you were too ready to tell a truth I wasn’t ready to share



it used to be counting ribs and hips and inches, swaying booty and lacy lingerie now it’s standing in front of the mirror trying to smile and wondering where all of it went


“and when things get tough, just remember a hot bath on a cold winter’s night or crawling into new linen” there are some things you can’t put better than as they are


its capacity to be something worth keeping even if I'm to exist under a whole generation of feet has always kept me safe                  but never intact