My black is too much. My caramel, sometimes semi-, called cocoa skin. The hatred I have for it, when did the hatred begin? The stretch marks that line my arms, that line my hips, that line my inner thighs.
They tell a story. But all too often all I tell about food and eating is lies. I am like a lioness. But I am not grateful to be the leader of the pride.
See this hatred I have for my body. Has caused me to starve and carve in ways which can’t it can’t be repaired… Ways in which I cannot describe.Read more on themighty.com