2 minute read

skinny hurts (sometimes) by Anonymous

from Future Histories Issue 6, Spring 2021

from Future Histories Issue 6, Spring 2021, page 36

Nightlight

Maybe we have already passed the epoch of the body as an attribute, and maybe I’m just wasting time to lament the passing of time, but —

#1. My arms only fill up one half of the sleeves on my T-shirt. I yearn for three quarters.

#2. I wish to use the fat on my legs to dress my shoulders.

#3. Imagine football padding on a skeleton. Comic and unattractive. My upper body.

#4. There is such a thing as a thin person’s blessing: unlimited food intake. Or at least people seem to think so. Nothing I intake is taken by my body. I want food to grow from under the skin.

#5. I like baggy clothing. They make balloons out of my features.

#6. Mom said avoid black because the color “swallows” me. I wear it regardless. I wear black baggy clothing like a beast in the night, except I am smaller.

#7. Sometimes I fill the mirror with junk. The mirror knows & smiles ruefully. The mirror is particularly good at storing my emotions. #8. I get scared by massive figures in the gym. They may be able to swallow me whole and make a shadow of my existence.

#9. When I choose to be a nocturnal animal, my skin deflates like a balloon in the morning. All my T-shirts run big.

#10. The mirror reminds me to check my shoulders before stepping into the shower. I do push-ups before leaving the room.

#11. There is no such a thing as a thin person’s curse. Or at least I seem to think so, when I repeat the mantra in my head.

#12. I wouldn’t stand a chance in football.

#13. Sometimes people tell me that I should work out. They say, laughing, “you are tall enough, but not strong enough!” I laugh too, saying, “yes, I’m comic and unattractive.”

#14. Sometimes I feel like nothing I feel is felt by anyone.

#15. Sometimes maybe only half of what I feel is worth being written about. I yearn for three quarters.