The Weirdest Thing

The weirdest thing about me is the way my body hates my brain

And to be absolutely honest, the way my brain feels the same

Because my body is growing bigger and while size shouldn’t equal shame

The 3-pound pile of goo inside my head says my worthlessness is to blame

My body hates my brain’s sighs, moans, and groans and the way it always complains

Telling my body that my belly, thighs, and cellulite are wrinkled, pimpled, dimpled terrain

But despite the threats and bullying my body won’t be tamed

It’s 200 pounds of dense and stubborn meat tacked on a tired tangled frame

My brain riots, roars, kicks, and spits, a pink pile of pus that’s raw and inflamed

Because my body won’t listen, won’t get smaller, being fat and useless is its aim

So I have a body seething at a brain because it won’t stop calling it names

And I have a brain that hates a body because of the chubby monster it became

And the weirdest thing about me is that this fat shaming is a feud I entertain

I let my brain and body bicker, fight, and argue, and throw my self-esteem down the drain

Because though they hate each other, stuck in a relationship that’s more than strained

Ultimately I’m the one who has to deal with both of them while trying to stay sane

But with all of this constant agitation, anxiety, and doubt it’s fucking hard to maintain

I feel stuck inside a heavy body that’s topped off with an angry brain in chains

I wonder if I’ll ever be free, dethrone them from their reign

I wonder if I’m losing you because this is a pretty weird problem to explain

I’m alone and I’m abandoned, I’m just an argument wrapped in skin and tied with veins

My existence is nothing more than the back and forth of body versus brain disdain

I guess the truth is I’m completely weird — in fact I’d say I’m quite deranged

Because after 33 years with this brain and body none of this seems all that strange