Autumn: In Memoriam (A Nightmare)


I mourn my thin body even before it becomes fat again.
Even as my hipbones jut out and my knees knock together, I think about the body that could have been, although it still is.
Because, deep down, I know where the scale is headed.
The old too-full gut returns, stomach a small rounded ball, jutting out.
The acid reflux jerking me out of my sleep.
The daily walk becoming a slipshod and haphazard occurrence, the lack of energy and puffy eyes the re-new normal.
The daily naps on the sofa in front of the TV, the late-night prowl in front of the refrigerator and pantry, the junk food runs.
Ennui and heaviness.
The groaning jeans or shorts.
Yes, all too familiar.
How do I break this cycle of yo-yoing?

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