The Deification of a Fatty
At Cici’s, I was a God.
Cici’s Pizza is a franchise—all-the-shit-you-can-shove-in-your-mouth for only $5 a head. Kids eat free, so I got the $5—my dad said You can play pinball or tip the busboy.
At Cici’s, I was skinny.
And that’s saying something—in 1st grade I was large enough to charge down the 6th graders. As long as you’re addicted to carbs I can be addicted to alcohol. I stopped eating and went to the arcade.
At Cici’s, I was horny.
There was another girl at the pinball machines, daughter of Florida bohemian wannabes. She wore a white jean jacket, no shirt, unbuttoned so her flat tits and non-existent nipples were out. I’d never seen anyone skinnier (your sister is a close second).
At Cici’s, I was childish.
I had amazing tits, at seven—look at them, they’re all fat—but that didn’t stop my dad from rubbing me after he saw that girl. I was hot and round and served to him. I was a bride you’d pay a fee for. I was my own mother-and-a-half. You were almost as good as your sister.
The Death of a Fatty
i believe in blue lululemon sports bras
i believe in del monte sweet peas for lunch
i believe in quitting sugar except in meal replacers
i believe in lana del rey’s look circa 2012
i believe in keeping things lowercase for aesthetic purposes
i believe in pushing the limits of nudity
i believe in moving to beverly hills with george
i believe in the la country club
i believe in getting george’s approval on lingerie before buying it with his credit card
i believe in studying pov blowjob shots
i believe in undressing for my friend at the victoria’s secret
i believe in the la porn scene inviting me to audition after seeing my weight loss journey
i believe in the power of friendship
i believe in helping the girls through breakups
i believe in calling them before i try to kill myself
i believe in right and wrong
i believe in challenging gender roles but maintaining the sex ones
i believe in calling my father a criminal
i believe in censoring genetic wet dreams
i believe in groping my own breasts
i believe in relationships outside the family now
The Resurrection of a Fatty
a guy who
only wanted to fuck me
once he got fat
and I got fat again
said that making people read my incest poems
How is that not rape?
I know you all see me as a sociopath
some Patrick Bateman femme boss
because I want to fuck my dad
and it doesn’t make me ashamed
we’re all sociopaths
that’s what you don’t understand
As I will continue to hammer in
nothing matters except me
my days are filled with screeching babies
complaining about PDFs, fonts, docuseries, LSD, taxes, cheating, eating disorders, gender dysphoria, gender euphoria, dead animals, priests, film shoots, healthcare, children, contracts, logs, log lines, politicians, emails, calendars, ketamine, notepads, piss and I have all the answers, there’s no denying it
but my poems are mine
and if you’ve ever asked me for anything
you better shut your mouth and read them
read about how I fucked my mom in a dream
how I cried at the La Brea Tar pits
how my boyfriend took care of me
I don’t give a shit if you’d rather be watching Ice Age with your two-year-old
I’m not asking
My parents used to say
Who made you so beautiful?
and I said god
not because I believed in him
but because I knew they had little to do with it