Find your next favourite story now
Login

Dysmorphia Stories

dysmorphia

Sometimes before the red tide My body is no longer mine When I stare down At those two fat burlap sacks 

Curves like melted candle wax Dried on the floor, a shapeless mass

 I wonder if I’m just paying rent
 Not recognizing my naked form

 Now a tarp stretched tight Filled with air

 Bloated and burning
 Almost bursting Breasts that don’t feel like breasts
 A belly that bubbles grotesque A swathe of distended skin
 Swoll...