Cozy in My Skin
I seem to fit my life now, I’m cozy in my skin.
No matter how far out it goes, I always fit right in.
When I gain a pound or two, my skin grows out to hold it,
and when my skin begins to sag enough for me to fold it,
my flesh grows out to fill it in. It’s become symbiotic.
That state of growing me out to my skin’s become hypnotic.
When encountering fresh pastries, a fugue state might ensue.
A box of chocolates empties, though I only ate a few.
Whole pizzas vanish in thin air, to my midnight grief.
They left the box behind them, this culinary thief!
The thought of uninvited guests is not very nice.
I make much of the mystery. Could it be dogs or mice?
Perhaps once more the kittens have discovered a way in
and at night when the lights go out, pursue their lives of sin.
Feasting on my pizza. Gorging on my pies.
Surveying my milk chocolate with their greedy feline eyes.
I spin a pretty fantasy, but the truths of this tale
are revealed to me each morning as I step upon the scale.
For the Writer’s Digest Prompt, a Cozy Poem
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Lol! It’s easy to blame the kittens 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love this Judy. I can well relate and wrote a couple of odes on the subject!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You totally have a point about filling in the wrinkles! For the past few years the rigors of my unchosen lifestyle have prevented me from gaining much weight at all… 😱😆
LikeLiked by 1 person
grand whimsy. I relate!!!! Here’s a tip… Don’t leave the goodies out where your felines can help you dispose of them. You’re fun. Ann
LikeLike
LOL who needs the scale anyway?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Must admit I really do!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Only if it does not aggressively police your food intake!
LikeLike