This soft body

I'm lying on my bed

Writing about body image

I'm confessing to a page

That I struggle to make

Friends with the mirror.

My perfect little boy walks in

He tells me he loves me,

and asks for a hug.

I know that this soft body is a home to him.

…

N.B.

This isn't a poem about how ‘it’s okay my body changed because it made a baby' - I don't like that rhetoric. All bodies change and it's always okay. It's just a poem about receiving love in a way that reframes your thinking and feeling.