He looks towards me, and says that I am beautiful
I want to rebut his adoring approval
As I wear sweats for pants, and the stank of toddler shit dances off my skin.
I haven’t showered today…Who am I kidding, I haven’t showed for three
Beautiful is not the adjective to use for me.
I find that my hair is up in a messy bun more often than not these days,
but I keep telling myself that that’s just a phase.
He walks closer to wrap himself around me
And again spits out the beautiful line,
That line- that line that I can’t for the life of me define
How can he find, this bedraggled person who stands before him beautiful?
The thought making me unnerved and rueful.
It must be lies
Because in a world like this, where the sought after women
Eat only steamed broccoli and the plain breasts of chicken,
I am consuming the leftovers on my children’s plates
From beef-a-roni to KD to crumbs from their cakes
In a world like this, where the women today have
Heavy make-up plastered all over their face
Without a wrinkle or blemish, not even a trace…
And mine is pocked with dots all over the place.
In world like this where the sought after women are glamorously clad
In skin tight dresses, on every television ad.
How can I stand up to the women in a world like this?
And that is when I feel his hands on my hips.
He looks directly into my eyes, and tells me
That in a world like this,
In a world that places so much emphasis
On an outwards appearance, with the menacing facade
of marketing ads featuring women’s counterfeit bods
In a world like this, where a woman’s breast
Can be transformed into a plaything upon her own chest
In a world like this where anorexia is fit
And women suffer daily from disorders like this
In a world like this, his words cut me sharp
In a world like this, “I’d rather a woman that causes me sparks.”
And he rubs his hand down the thigh I was just crying about being thickened over the years
And he tells me that I am truly beautiful.
And I believe him.