This is an apology letter,

That I should have written,

A long time ago.

 

Instead of saying sorry,

About myself,

I should be saying,

To myself.

 

Dear Body,

I’m sorry,

For hating on your every second.

 

Dear Stomach,

I’m sorry,

For all the nights I made you go hungry.

For the days I didn’t eat on purpose,

And the days I kept going back,

To the scale.

 

Dear Nose,

I’m sorry,

For seeing you as imperfect.

For hating your freckles,

And the slight lump,

You have the middle.

 

Dear Back,

I’m sorry,

For never being proud of you,

And always slouching,

Because I was ashamed.

 

Dear Toes,

I’m sorry,

For not liking you at all,

And tucking you away in shoes,

Or socks.

 

Dear Cheeks,

I’m sorry,

For seeing you as chubby,

And hating when you flushed red.

 

Dear Shoulders,

I’m sorry,

For every time I wished you were,

Less broad,

And thinner.

 

Dear Arms,

I’m sorry,

For wishing you had fewer freckles,

And splotches.

For drawing on you in class,

Because I was scared,

Or worried.

 

Dear Eyes,

I’m sorry,

For wishes you were green,

And not such an in-between color.

 

Dear Knees,

I’m sorry,

For being ashamed of all your scars,

Instead of wearing them like medals.

 

Dear Thighs,

I’m sorry,

For wishing you didn’t touch,

Or jiggle.

 

Dear Chin,

I’m sorry,

For not liking your cleft,

And wishing the family mark,

Had crossed me over.

 

Dear Fingers,

I’m sorry,

For wishing you were thinner,

And elegant,

And long.

For wishes my finger nails,

Were more pretty looking,

And that my pinky finger,

Wasn’t so dreadfully short.

 

Dear Ears,

I’m sorry,

For hiding you behind my hair,

And not liking how small you seemed.

 

Dear Hips,

I’m sorry,

For wishing you were less wide,

And freckled.

 

Dear Figure,

I’m sorry,

For wishing you were more thin,

And perfect.

 

Dear Wrists,

I’m sorry,

For only loving you,

Because you were narrow,

And finely cut.

 

Dear Elbows,

I’m sorry,

For hating how bony,

And broad you were.

 

Dear Self,

Start to accept your outward appearance,

And not seek to change,

Anything,

Because there is a beauty,

In imperfectness.