If fear has ingrained in you not to take up space,

why would you choose to grow?

My rib cage shields a heart that’s been broken for years.

They’ll point their crooked fingers and ask why you’re not

“fixed yet”

Don’t scream at me to grow

while blocking out the sunshine

Healing happens in layers

not in calories or pounds

or weeks scratched off a calendar

You can’t dictate my pain by the size of my wounds

The deepest cuts have been hidden for years.