Had to go a little lighter today. Thank goodness Elizabeth Barret Browning isn’t around to read things like these.
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height
Of my legs with no blood circulation in material this tight
counting the moments until I am free of thee.
I hate thee to the level of everday’s highest frustration point,
When my ragged nail snags thee and the run travels down to my ankle, wasting $5.
I hate thou dark, seamed toes that shun my sandals.
I hate thou control top that sucks in my stomach and tricks me into eating more than I should.
I hate thou weird color that’s supposed to be “barely there” but
looks like I’ve misused tanning lotion.
I hate thee with a passion, but it’s cold and I need
to wear this dress.
I hate thee with an anger that grows
as the day passes– I hate thee with the discomfort, restriction, and
pain of all my life! – And, if God choose,
I shall but hate thee less only when thee is in the trash.