Customer Service

Will you love me now

that I’ve lost the weight?

or do I need to tone the aftermath too?

tighten the evidence,

smooth the places where my body admits

it lived through something?

Will you love me now

or should my hair be longer,

shorter,

darker,

blonder—

should I pick a shade that says easy

and a cut that says I don’t need anything from you?

Will you love me now

or am I too loud,

Or did I not know what to say

Am I the kind of emotional that makes people tune out while they swear they’re still listening?

Will you love me now

or do I want too much,

not diamonds, not grand gestures, but of course shiny things are always nice,

just consistency,

just someone who doesn’t treat my tenderness

like a payment plan?

Are you afraid of commitment,

or are you afraid of being seen with me?

Or maybe just by someone who can actually tell

what you mean, when you’re speaking

Do you hate when I ask you what you’re thinking ?

Will you love me now

that you know all my secrets

or did I finally ruin the fantasy

by telling you the parts

that don’t photograph well?

Because I can feel it sometimes:

the moment your affection turns into math.

The quiet tallying.

The appraisal.

The internal voice that says

This one is complicated.

This one has a history.

This one will ask for more and maybe he deserves less

Do you love me now

or have you decided I’m damaged goods?

like I’m a product with a dent

and you’re only here

to see if I’m still worth the marked down price?

Tell me what to fix

and I’ll fix it.

Tell me what to shrink

and I’ll disappear politely.

Tell me what you want

and I’ll become the shape of it

until I can’t remember

what my real outline looked like.

Except fuck that… I’m tired.

Tired of auditioning for affection.

Tired of negotiating with mirrors.

Tired of acting like my body is a resume

and my feelings are a liability.

So—will you love me now?

Not when I’m perfected,

not when I’m packaged,

not when my skin forgets the past

and my hair behaves

and my voice fits neatly into your day.

Will you love me now

in the honest light

where my softness is not a flaw,

where my need is not a threat,

where my story isn’t something you “handle”

but something you hold?

Because if love requires me

to be smaller than I am,

quieter than I am,

less real than I am—

then it isn’t love.

It’s just customer service.