Hello Everyone,

I wrote this piece about 8 years ago, and it still holds true for me. I thought you might enjoy.

Skinny Women

Skinny women how I hate them.

How I love to berate them.

It’s not that I’m not sympathetic,

but size 9, FAT?- now that’s pathetic!

They pat their tummies all nice and flat

and say, “Do these pants make my butt look fat?”

I sweetly reply, “Not to be rude, but those very pants

... make your ass look huge!”

A skinny woman I’ll surely beat

if one more says; “I forgot to eat.”

“You forgot to eat...now how can that be?

Isn’t that like forgetting to breathe?”

When they do break down

and decide to dine,

listen closely and you can hear them whine:

“Dry broiled fish.”

“No dressing, please.”

“No beer, just a water with lemon for me.”

“You know I never eat red meat,

so a bite of liver, for me is a treat.”

“French fries? Onion rings?-Take them away.”

“Chocolate mousse?...I’ll take fruit sorbet.”

I see television shows like “Ally McBeal”

I think to myself, “Can this chick be real?”

How in the world does she stay so thin?

Does food come out?

Does food go in?

And the beautiful Renee

in “Bridget Jones”,

is supposed to be fat

or merely “big boned?”

“Full figured” gals are back in style?

Well, I haven’t seen one in quite a while.

The problem here, should I venture a guess...

A size 12 is average-not Reubenesque!

You see, I’m honest and nothing more,

and I find false modesty a tedious bore.

Cause I tell you sugar, if I were svelte

I’d tuck in my shirt and wear a belt.

I’d have leather pants and a halter top.

Everything I owned would be “mini” or “cropped.”

I’d buy black garter belts and maybe a thong.

I’d dress like a whore all the day long.

I’d say, “Hey everybody, look at me!

I’m looking good at 123!”

My friends would say, “Can you believe that?

I liked her better when she was fat!”

“You liked me much better when I was what?”

“Did you mention the “F” word?

That’s just what I thought!

When I was fat, I was so out of place

with my great personality and pretty face.

Now I’m much better. I’m better I say!

Step back non-believers! Out of my way!”

As I sashay by on stiletto heels, leaving them to guess

what’s been “bought” and what’s “real”.

But enough flights of fancy of this fantasy.

I’m sure that I am, and will always be me.

And “me’s” pretty good.

Yep, “ME”- that’’ll do...

but... I would like some thighs you can see daylight through.

Just kidding.

(Not really)

Bear with me my friend, for soon I’ll be finished;

this tirade will end.

It’s just that I struggle and struggle some more,

You’d think I would learn;

(that’s what therapy’s for.)

When it’s all been hashed out.

When it’s all said and done;

I like me a lot.

I’m really quite fun.

I know what’s important

I do know what counts, and it’s not what I weigh

measured out pound and ounce.

I just need to vent every once in a while,

and give all the fat girls a reason to smile.

I absolutely LOVE this poem. OMG you said everything I always want to say. Good stuff chic, good stuff!

absolutely love this poem!!!!