Fitting Room Feels

Give me snakes, heights, tight spaces, them all.

But please don’t give me fitting room feels with shorts two sizes too small.

As I enter the store I head straight to the back,

Where faded denim is piled high in a stack.

I grab 2, maybe 3 pairs at most,

Hoping the fitting room might be somewhere close.

I take a big gulp cause I already know,

What’s about to go down in this jail cell aligned in a row.

I pull one leg through-hoping that this denim don’t stick,

I wiggle and squirm as I tug on the fabric.

I pull up the other leg and begin to sigh,

Cause home girl got hips that’s why.

Here comes the hard part where strength comes into play,

I squeeze all my guts, butts galore in while I pray.

I’m at the home stretch as I stare at my button,

Trying to bring everything together as I suck in.

Success was finally made after sweat and pain,

But as I look in the mirror the feeling is always the same.

I look at the skin busting out at the seams,

My self-confidence shifts and so do my dreams.

I wish to be skinny, pretty, and thin,

Cause it seems that at life those truly win.

As I shove off the shorts and watch them crumple up on the floor,

I’m reminded that my worth is so much more.

I am beauty, intelligence, and wit,

The size of my jeans doesn’t change that a bit.

The fitting room feels don’t dare over power me,

Cause I know my truth and that sets me free.

I walk out with my head held high,

Cause no size nor number should ever make me cry.

I am a woman whose body is a treasure,

Clothes companies don’t get that that’s hard to measure.

So love your bodies every inch and curve,

Please know your worth and what you deserve.

Fitting Room Feels PDF

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