the iron molecules of her locker door
combined with the oxygen molecules
in a lovely brown color that hide her away.

…her and her fat-covered arms and her fat-covered
legs all dying to be thought of as beautiful and be
released from this prison of fat.

she was dying to be loved.
and an unknown love was dying for a heart.

(no love wants to be left abandoned.)
neither did she.

but the sobbing girl didn't know salvation was
found beyond the rusted iron that kept her safe
for so long.

(she needed to move.)

or let life move her.

and although she had no clue where to go,
or where she went, she already had moved.

that was the problem, wasn't it?

she moved from the smart, quiet girl that people
thought was nice to the girl that no one knew
with no friends who couldn't stop obsessing about
her weight. the uncliche case of a girl who is fat
dying to be thin who let her life's goal turn to

death.

her iced tear made a sensation that rippled through
her pale, flushed skin.

love was waiting for her.
(and she was waiting for it.)

welcome home, darling.