Wednesday, May 16, 2012

The Great Garbage Patch of Girls' Bodies



I am swimming in the Great Garbage Patch of girls' bodies. I should look like her.  My thighs are so huge. Look at the way they spread out when I sit down, like ham hocks. I could cut them off, put them in the oven, and serve them for Easter dinner. My stomach, not firm enough, I can squeeze the rolls together to look like a butt: When I sit up, the flab folds in twos and threes. I hate this blob that is me. So I surround myself with plastic perfection. Perfect boobs that sit up just right: Some bodies have white tan lines. Even in the sunshine, I won't take off my shirt any more; I wear mostly black. Ken likes all of them. Ken thinks I have a pretty face and that I am funny. Ken is a member of Fellowship of Christian Athletes and comes to school before sunrise on Wednesdays to pray by the flag. I've heard he and Barbie get naked after the games. That must be hot. But I, definitely, am not.

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