Stretch-Marks

If I could I’d frame your stretch marks

You only get them two ways:

By giving birth or dropping weight

Either way, serious pain

She is my pride, my bride

But before her, vato, my pride was my bride

Picture of endurance gave birth to our miracle

Those lines are memorials, freedom from the torture

Those pounds you put on were a defense mechanism

Like "Maybe if I was ugly, then he would stop touching me"

You endured the teasing of a fat girl on a track team but you kept running

You tuned out the ridicule and every calorie burned was cause for celebration

Those lines are victory laps, eternal gold medals

When I see them, I’m reminded of freedom, I’m so proud of you

How can I ever question your strength or ever doubt you?

Your struggle inspires physical literature

The pain that gave life and the scars

To prove it, if I could, I’d frame them