“Would you like me to start a room for you?”
“Yes, thanks” I say smiling
Grudgingly
Starting to mentally prepare myself for the tricks
That come out of the changing room
“Yeah, sure” I say to myself
Not smiling
Go ahead, start the room
Turn on the fake lighting
That makes your legs seem smaller
And your tummy fat disappear
I’d love to be locked in that room full of lies
Full of too tight clothes mistakenly purchased because in the changing room they fit and looked alright
Set me up in the room that has a mirror purposely placed
On an angle
So that your legs stretch on the for days
And your curves slender and smooth cozy up to anything you pull on
Any colour
And trick you into believing it hides your flaws
Until you get home and realize you were betrayed
Betrayed by the changing room
Betrayed by yourself
Falling for the changing room
One
More
Time.
Yes, Please, I’d love for you to start a room
And fill it with everything I stop to look at
Stop to feel
And take off the hook
Because in a tiny room
It’s harder to bargain with yourself
Once you’ve tried it on
It’s harder to tell yourself it’s not worth the price
Or you should buy it because of the price
Put me in that room and force me to battle
Between my brain and my wallet
Trying to prioritize the must-gets and the want-to-gets and the should-gets
Because it’s on for such a good deal and it kind of fits
Fits enough to take home
And probably only wear a few times…
Or never.
