by Aubrey Accomando
You once told me that my body was yours,
that it was proudly owned by you.
Did that mean all of my insecurities were yours, too?
All the tears shed looking in the mirror?
The squeezing of my stomach—
begging to look like someone else?
The times my head throbbed from not eating?
The unwelcomed hands that touched my bare body?
Tell me. Is that yours, too?
Or do you just own the shell of my body—
without all the pain it has been through?
About the Author:
Aubrey Accomando writes and lives in Waterford, Wisconsin. She is an English & Writing undergraduate student at Carroll University.