(squeaking)
(light music)
- The box that I was born in wasn't
big enough and growing up well fed by these
ads, mags, six-pack abs, fat ass, flat stomach,
booty bumpin', belly rumblin', jeans ripped, team quit
my years were at a baker's dozen
and as I grew from both sides I slowly surmised
that people my size with thick necks and big thighs
weren't allowed to have good time in a world
succumbed to augmentation.
Tummy tucks, Brazilian butts, work it, earn it,
train harder better faster stronger longer
hours at the gym, more fat to burn, more laps,
more reps, more sets, not even close.
I wish you had taken this seriously.
You haven't earned it.
Am I even worth it?
When I woke something had changed, and instead of rage,
I found solace, an honest free sample of tranquility,
sweet and zesty.
Happiness that I hadn't tasted in many meals.
And on that day I was beautiful.
It felt unusual to feel suitable
where I used to be reducible, and now it's indisputable
that when I look in the mirror what I see is much clearer.
Fear gone, sheer calm.
Today, I take time to rewind and remind myself
to find the good in body and mind.
And though there are days when you may feel lesser,
it gets better.
But it starts with converting that pressure
that made you feel terror into something
you can sever and separate.
I hope you can relate and realize that the box only
equates to what you make it to be,
so before you listen to that constant chatter and think
that all your dreams are shattered, remember
if you don't mind, it doesn't matter.
(light music)