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