Tiger Tiger

Tiger Tiger
Years ago, I boarded a scale, comparing the results to a Health Weight Chart, which informs me I’m overweight.

I know such charts are there to provide users with what may be deemed as factual information, but it doesn’t fill me with hope.

It delivers anxiety to me, in bulk.What it tells me is that I’m not good enough, I’m fat, I’m overweight, I’m obese, I’m very obese, I’m morbidly obese. Keep telling me that.

Throughout time I began to bare stripes, my body was stretched, and I was in denial.

The first stripe was tiny; I thought I don’t have my stomach on show anyway shortly after it gained a friend, and eventually a following.

Anxiety blended in with anger, and I switched lanes on the chart. My stripes darkened, and my mood was even darker.

I wrapped up in black and aspired to be a silhouette within society. I’ll be your shadow.

The eyes that scan me as I checkout at the checkout.They see my basket, and I hear them say, I’m not sure about Unique, but FATSO, definitely.At least she’s trying?

The thoughts that infiltrate my goals, I succumb to the languishing of sugared-ring doughnuts, £1, deal. Done. Eaten. Alone!

I was once asked what they are?

I answered, I am a tiger, I bore tiger stripes!

I am a tiger.

A tiger.

Tiger, tiger.