Like cattle being led to slaughtershe feels herself pushed closer to the double doors.
Aware of hard bodies pressed against her softness,
the ride of her shirt up her full torso,
the pinch of her jeans... her mothers choice... cutting into the flesh that spills over the top.
Feeling the silent expectation that her body fit into this piece of denim, conform to this size.
Her mind begins the battle that is waged daily..same time, same place.
A small salad, light dressing, is the healthy choice.
This she knew.
If not a healthy choice than no choice at all, she determined
as she burst through narrow doors into the vast room.
Eyes, like a missile, lock unto the bar filled with vegetables...cold, hard and unyielding.
Laughter, close to her ear, causes a sideways glance.
A cut of the eyes to the impossibly thin, effervescent girls to her left.
Feeling their judgement, trying to ease the lump building in her throat, she slides past the salads.
You've decided...it's no choice then! Keep moving.
The voice inside her head whispers.
Her eyes catch a reflection of herself and the lithe girls reflected in the stainless steel.
Her body appears immense, her features swollen, her breasts overabundant.
Disgust, sadness, resignation wash over her like oncoming waves.
Her movements quicken, feeling the girls impatience pushing her from behind.
Blindly grabbing, she turns to survey the tables.
Tables filled with raging hormones, false bravado, illusion.
She doesn't fit.
Mercifully, she escapes....slipping into the bathroom....unseen.
Closing the stall door she perches on the porcelain seat.
Tucking feet up, she tries to make herself smaller....tries to make herself disappear.
Glancing to her hand she sees what she mindlessly grabbed.
So pretty in it's pinkness....so perfectly made.
Slowly lifting it to her mouth
She feels the cakey texture yield between her teeth.
The sweetness of the frosting dancing across her tongue.
The rich density sliding down, filling the hole so deep within.
This is the taste of friendship.
This is the comfort of companionship.
Feeding the hope that tomorrow will be different.
Tears trailing silently down her cheeks.
Inspired by: Mama Kat's prompt~ Write a poem about hope.
The Red Dress Club~ write a piece inspired by this delicious shot.
**Note** I usually write two seperate entries for these sites. This week I've been ill so I tried to combine the two prompts. Thanks for your understanding and my apologies to anyone who is offended.