Fat Friday: Tone Deaf

Don't you just hate it when you've managed to start pulling yourself out of the psychological sewer of despair and had the personal fortitude to back away from the suicide booth although your body is doing horrible shit up to and including activity which inflicts literal cognitive changes, and it would be easier just to die and get it over with, and along comes a tone-deaf concern troll who proceeds to unleash a coronal mass ejection of NOPE all over your post? I know I do.

Would you, reading this paragraph:

I have to fight all the negative messages about my body several times a day every day and probably will for the rest of my life. Forget "loving" my body. I would be happy to be able to just ACCEPT my damn body and move on. But jerks who begin sentences with "it's okay to love your body, but..." do their level best every day to make sure that I will never even be allowed to just accept mine.

Decide to argue that the most relevant thing the person who wrote that paragraph can do for their health is to fall back into the clutches of diet culture and begin trying to hate themselves thin again. I know I...

MOST CERTAINLY WOULD NOT DO ANYTHING OF THE KIND!

I mean...

What the actual fuck.

Concern trolls always think that the rules don't apply to their sage wisdom.

I don't know, y'all. Sometimes I think I'm just done.

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 22 + Poems in April Day 22: My Vicious Villanelle: 1000% Done

At this stage of the game, I'm done with rules

I'm tired of word counts and prompts of the day

I've decided that rules are for fools

I could write about my family jewels

But they're all plastic anyway

At this stage of the game, I'm done with rules

I could create something with power tools

With drills and chain saws I could play

I've decided that rules are for fools

I could see about going back to school

But I'd probably just cut class anyway

At this stage of the game, I'm done with rules

I don't want to be so mean and cruel

But I must say, for the end of prompts I pray

I've decided that rules are for fools

The calendar says that the end is in sight

So though I wish I could quit I guess I'll stay

At this stage of the game, I'm done with rules

I've decided that rules are for fools

~Cie~

Notes:

I've always said that I write two kinds of poems: dark and silly.

I'm a despicable liar.

I actually write three kinds of poems.

Dark, silly, and snarky.

Guess which kind this is.