The Fire In My Belly by Lola Wood

the fire in my Belly burns,  

and it has taken  

years  

for me to embrace these flames,  

to let them burn  

rather than trying and trying, failingly  

to extinguish them  

breathing in  

wearing loose clothes  

editing, softening  

posing so unnaturally it hurts.  

but I grew bored of trying to put out my fire  

when I questioned who wanted the fire out  

before I even got to decide. Before I even knew I liked the warmth  I knew  

others didn’t  

I knew mainstream didn’t. Models didn’t, TV didn’t, adverts didn’t,  mannequins didn’t  

boys didn’t and girls didn’t  

but it’s not the boys and girls faults  

they too, before knowing for themselves, knew society didn’t  

didn’t what? Like Bellies.  

even the word Belly used to scare me  

but notice now, it’s big round capital B was crowned  

by me, on purpose  

I always thought the word tummy sounded smaller and less harsh than  Belly  

Im making up for lost time now, saying all these Bellies.  because I now like my round Belly, and the fire it holds  there are people with smaller and bigger Bellies than me,  some will pray to never have a Belly like mine  

some will pray to have a Belly like mine  

it’s exciting that my mum makes me clothes  

it’s also because clothes from shops don’t fit me how I want them to  it’s inspiring that I’m saying all of this  

it’s also a reminder to myself when I cry after looking in the mirror  

Little Miss Sunshine would be proud.  

See, I come from a family built like russian dolls  

but we don’t get that small in the end

Poem by Lola Wood, you can follow her on Instagram here.

Accompanying illustration by Katy Riley, you can follow her on Instagram here.