As I looked down at the near-full perfume bottles,
Shoes I haven’t worn since high school,
Shirts that stopped fitting ten pounds ago,
And dozens of pairs of panties, socks, and ripped hosiery,
I realized why I can’t stop buying things—I don’t like myself very much.
Paying for color analyses,
Scouring the internet for body type quizzes,
and scrolling through social media for the newest trend,
I keep trying to change bodies.
I tried to be sexier with smaller triangles, thinner thongs, higher legs—
Until I read effortless is better
And opted for wider backs in white, black, and gray.
And when the clothes don’t work,
or lay crumbled in the hamper after a sweaty walk to class,
I try to change my skin.
Florals, gourmands, and spices adorn the back
Of my neck, knees, and wrists—
Uplifting me to a higher state of confidence.
Until I’m sitting at my desk,
The aroma of red currant and roses wafting off the underside of my scalp
And I can’t help but think,
You’re trying too hard.
When the shoes start to hurt my feet,
and the seams become too scratchy against my skin,
and the scent overwhelms my senses,
I put it all in a box and start over.
Time to check my balance.
Hannah Bagley
Hannah Bagley is a poet and recent graduate from Southern Appalachia. She is also published in The Chestatee Review and As It Ought To Be Magazine. Bagley draws inspiration from her upbringing in the mountains, nature, and the human experience through a feminist lens.
