My body, not your property.

Sometimes I wish to tat myself up with wings and stitch my fasting wounds with iron strings. I looked over myself in the mirror half naked and spared myself from all the body-shaming I have encountered all day long. My lower belly is all the way stacked in cellulite and scars, so are my thick thighs.  “A plus size” they call me; I have had enough. “Crop tops don’t suit you” sounds like “you are useless and not enough......” .“Why don’t you go on a diet” chuckled the idiots and said “so you think you are light?”. In the bodily aspect they are humans, but inhumanity resides in their souls. Time to speak up, dress up and glam up. We ain’t running late, retarded mentalities got to go.