USED PARTS I

Photo by Christopher Windus on Unsplash

I take myself and all my used parts

and drop them off at the junkyard.

armfuls of things I hate about myself;

chunks and rolls of scars and self-loathing.

they fall from my arms with

a deafening crash, but I don’t cry or scream.

I breathe a sigh of relief, even though I feel so weak.

I feel so much lighter after shedding the weight.

I don’t expect to miss it.

I scour the junkyard for pieces

I wouldn’t be ashamed to get caught with.

a tiny waist here, a little confidence there.

I inspect these other abandoned masterpieces

and toss them aside.

there’s nothing here worth finding.

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A poem from my newest collection, The Art of Starving, available now on Amazon.

Check it out here.