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Thighs
They rub together
They touch when I walk
A kilogram of feathers
Gross as touching chalk
They bulge out my jeans
They chaff in my shorts
I wish to be lean
I need it even more
Heels together and thighs apart
That’s my only dream
55 cm is quite a lot
I see Pinterest girls and I scream
What did they do for it
How did they get slim as a gazelle
Do they never eat or sit
Or are they distractions from hell
I hate these legs the stick from my torso
Weighing me down when I walk
Ugly hip dips and large big toes
I use duct tape as a lock
I imagine my beauty with a thigh gap
How everyone would love me
Swimming in a pool with a bikini like that
Shopping for size 0 jeans
Squatting for thin but I just get bulky
Running for some comfort
Throwing food away happily
So I can taste being small for summer
But the only thing that ruins me
Is the thighs of my ugly body
I stare in the mirror sadly
And imagine me in a song sweet
The small leggings collecting dust
Would hang loose at my thighs
The tight shirt would sag at my bust
I’d be happy with mercurial highs
© Waiteing
They touch when I walk
A kilogram of feathers
Gross as touching chalk
They bulge out my jeans
They chaff in my shorts
I wish to be lean
I need it even more
Heels together and thighs apart
That’s my only dream
55 cm is quite a lot
I see Pinterest girls and I scream
What did they do for it
How did they get slim as a gazelle
Do they never eat or sit
Or are they distractions from hell
I hate these legs the stick from my torso
Weighing me down when I walk
Ugly hip dips and large big toes
I use duct tape as a lock
I imagine my beauty with a thigh gap
How everyone would love me
Swimming in a pool with a bikini like that
Shopping for size 0 jeans
Squatting for thin but I just get bulky
Running for some comfort
Throwing food away happily
So I can taste being small for summer
But the only thing that ruins me
Is the thighs of my ugly body
I stare in the mirror sadly
And imagine me in a song sweet
The small leggings collecting dust
Would hang loose at my thighs
The tight shirt would sag at my bust
I’d be happy with mercurial highs
© Waiteing
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