Gloaters

I dread seeing others

that first time.

Stop hearing

“You look great.”

Instead, met by prying eyes,

exploring my body

invading my shame

lingering longest

on areas most changed.

My dear!

What a fat ass you have!

Some seem warmer,

wickedly happy I failed.

Some are disgusted

by my new state.

Some

appear relieved to have me back,

sent spiraling to chunky town

on my big fat fanny.

And I

loathe     them     all.

I’ll make it yet

I silently challenge

wait and see

just wait and see.