The Fat Girl In My Head

She needs to go away.
She cannot keep crossing
Into my visual cortex.

Every time I pick up a
Garment, I need to pick
My size, not hers.

I know (I'm pretty sure)
I never looked like her.

Wider than a door frame,
Pieces of flesh hanging out.

Not even the interesting
Pieces of flesh either.

God, I never
Want to see her
Ever again.

She needs to go away.
But she's such a comfort.
I don't have to challenge
Myself with being confident.

But, no taking the easy way out.
Or easy way in, in this case.

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