package deal

by crystal tiara

my body came

into my possession

without even a chance

for me to view

the finished product

and to customize it

should any changes

be desired.

it had everything

in the right places,

but nothing that

exactly stood out

(in a flattering light),

not to mention that

it came with layers

and layers

of excess baggage,

like a deluge of pudding.

i don’t see what

is so great about

being small vertically

and large horizontally

(and all over).

my stubborn, wild hair

refuses to behave

for longer than an hour.

my eyes are almonds
(more like slits)

that almost disappear

when my watermelon lips

scrunch up into a

semblance of a smile.

my arms and legs

are bulkier than a parcel

full of mail.

i think i look like

a squashed, pudgy bean

(all hyperbole aside).

some package deal!

i guess it’s all or nothing;

i have to live with the fact

that i have the plainness

of a wooden plank.

i just wish i could

get rid of the excess baggage.

why did they ever

have to come with the package?

Author’s Notes: I wrote this tongue-in-cheek poem as a way of describing my insecurities about my body. It made use of a lot of hyperbole, but seriously, I’m really not pretty. In addition to that, I have serious issues regarding my weight and my self-image. Thus, I decided to translate my frustration into words.