I'm okay

I'm okay

I'm five or six

Not exactly the picture of grace

Cuts and bruises adorn my elbows and knees

But with every fall 

I stand back up and shout

I'm okay

I'm 12 or 13 

Still not beauty or Grace 

Taunts and snide comments decorate my days at school

But with every questioning look 

I smile and say 

I'm okay

I'm 19 or 20 

I see my beauty 

but the doctor doesn't

Looking at my bones he sees the problem

They will cut 

They will screw m

They will change and rip and tear and strip and change

The body it took twenty years to accept

I'm not okay