Ode to FUPA

Ode to My FUPA

You’ve been here all along, unnoticed and unnamed.

But now noticed, instead of welcoming joy,

they are reducing you to acronyms

like you are some thing separate from myself.

Cosmo has an article

Describing what exercises to do and food to eat

Explaining how to get rid of you,

as if I could take you off

like you were a shirt,

instead of something under my skin.

But you ARE a part of me,

and thus worthy of love.

Not some


to get rid of

at all.

You are mine.

You are me.

You are loved.