Your Body Is Not An Apology.

When I was 12 years old,

I heard my 'not so slim' cousin being told 

“It’ll be difficult to get a decent boy to marry you”

Lose a few pounds,and bid your worries adieu 

But who was to tell her

A pound more or a pound less isn't who she was

Her body was hers and not something for the world to gauge

Your relatives’ opinion about your body is not a reflection of you

Our bodies are our homes, not some unprogressive taboo

Flipping through the glossy perfection of pink-clad magazines 

I see the oh so skinny jeans and perfectly sculpted teens

But where in that superficial world can I see the thunder thighs 

Or the tiger skinned stretch marks that leave a trail of screams

Howling “I am beautiful, not for your critique”.

Never have we been told to love our bodies

Hide your curves, slim and trim as much as you can

But these curves run like oceans 

Which the rigid weight scales cannot span

The society convinced us that our bodies are not something to be treasured 

Whenever we tried to feel beautiful in our skins

They expressed their displeasure 

It’s like asking a flower not to bloom,

Or for a fire not to fume

So next time they ask you to be pretty, thin or flat

Remember,

The universe did not waste its atoms

Just so you could be contained within these labels 

So next time when the ruthless society try to bring you down

Remember,

To get back up with double the fire and triple the rage

Your body is a tapestry of the scars and the stories you have endured 

Your body is not an apology.