He calls to ask me out for coffee
I’ve been home all day
Getting angry
Getting desperate
Alone, at home.

So I’ll say sure, I’ll meet you in twenty.
And turn to the cupboards in my room.
I hate the summer,
Its too hot to wear baggy clothes.
But I cant wear nothing.

I have scars across my breasts.
I hide them obsessively.
I did try to embrace them… once
And I got perhaps forty comments,
“what’s that?”
or worse, “that’s disgusting!”

I hate summer,
Too hot to hide them.
Facing the cupboards in my room.
I have thick black hairs across my stomach,
What woman has to hide
That she shaves her stomach?
Needs to twice a day.

My breasts are sagging.
They literally ‘grew down’
And they have tissue problems
Lumps last month were found.

Well I hate summer.
I cant hide away.
But I do…
Still I look the fool.
And then
After I’ve spent a long 10 minutes,
Staring at my naked body
Wishing it would disappear
He’ll call me,
“actually, I cant really bothered”

And he’ll hung up.
Not waiting for my reply.

The same happened with another guy once.
We were sitting in the park,
He started to feel up my top.
I stopped him
Walked off
Told him I’ll message him,
Tell him why he had to stop.

I sent a ‘do you still want to be with me now’ email
After explaining why I was the way I was.
After confessing that it was something I was born with.
My sagging scared breasts.
My hairy bloated stomach.
My sad… sad… face.

And after I sent my “do you still want me”
I didn’t expect a reply.
But I got one.

It simply said,

“fuck no!”