When I was just a girl, 

I was standing in the hall.

My back pressed flush against the wall

I could feel the coldness against my 

Hands,

Back,

Legs.

I could hear nothing but for some 

Reason my head was 

Loud. 

Cold tears rolled down my burning cheeks.

My sister walked.

I noticed the way she looked.

Her tummy didn't 

Exist. 

Her jeans weren't 

Wrinkly, 

Baggy,

Tight.

I feel the waist of my jeans

Digging into my stomach.

I feel heavy fabric on my 

Skin,

Touching my thighs.

I feel the thick fabric jumbled at my tiny 

Ankles.

I feel restricted in the jeans.

Suddenly, out of the loud nonsense, I heard something 

“Why can't I look like that?”

My mother 

Angry and confused why I cry

I too, am angry and confused as to why I cry 

I think now,

What I needed

Is for my mama to hold me and ask me

“Why are you crying?”