carbs

why do you spend a great deal

explaining yourself, 

finding interesting ways to say

I am lonely

I am sad

I don't like myself, 

sometimes. 

you tug at your middle

all three rolls, 

the flesh exhaling softly,

under your unforgiving hands.

you know it's not true

but you rebuke it:

if only you were less, 

thinner, lay flatter, like dough 

kneaded down,

you could leave.

but your fear rises up

every time you catch him, 

eyeing another, 

half of you.