I have forgotten me.
The chubby kid I used to be.
The sickly thin teenager I once was.
The perfect twenty one year old.
My body was a tool I used,
To help me hold books and read.
My body was a tool I used,
To help me climb a tree and look at the birds.
And then came the chair,
The exams, the interviews, the job.
I did not care, my hunger grew fierce and stray.
I did not care, McDonalds was a stone’s throw away.
My body was no longer my favorite tool.
I had a phone, a laptop, an ipad.
The birds were now too noisy on the trees no longer there.
My body, just wanted the chair.
I wanted an app to wake me up.
I wanted an app to help me sleep.
I wanted an app to plot a graph of how I run,
But I forgot what it was to walk.
They told me being pretty did not matter.
They told me being pretty helped you get a job.
They told me obesity could kill.
But they frowned upon anyone who criticized the fat.
I have forgotten me.
The things that my eyes could see.
My brain that questioned, played and asked again.
The perfect, ten year old.










Wagging Tongues