Turn my head. The fats in my chin.
Sit down. The way my fats feel pressed against the chair.
Walk. The bounce of my step. The bounce of my arms against my fat-swamped ribs.
Scratch. Cellulite moving.
Everyday every fucking second.
THE VOICE IN YOUR HEAD WHO TELLS YOU YOU CAN'T DO IT IS A LYING SLUT.
YOU CAN.
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