She Stands Naked in the Changing Room

She Stands Naked in the Changing Room

She stands naked in the changing room,

Fluorescent lights

cast shadows on lines, rolls, wrinkles,

Blemished flesh and ugly feet;

An ill-fitting bra, swollen rolls

where her waist should be.

 

She stands naked in the changing room,

Curtains drawn, hiding from the tarty

sales assistant, taught, thin, orange skin,

‘Maybe some heels,

Lengthen out your legs a little?’

No way a red dress can work wonders.

 

She sits naked in the changing room,

Pulls at bra straps and underwear,

Red marks, elastic has been too tight,

Squashed belly button, no ribcage in sight,

Glares at the mirror, too many cookies,

Not enough core work.

 

Item after item,

Arms through too small sleeves,

Stomach bulging under jumper,

She sighs, slips her thighs out of size 8 jeans

Runs away from the store,

And leaves them on the floor.


by for www.femalefirst.co.uk
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