For the Men Who Comment on My YouTube Video For My Poem "Fat Girl" and Write "She's Not Fat. I'd Fuck That."

I am glad you paid attention in English Class when the teacher’s spoke about nuance, and symbolism, and reading between the lines, and you deduced that my entire poem—about the names the hallways called me, about the always too big and never enough—was really about how I needed to hear that you would fuck me.

Thank you, stranger, every time you say I am not fat, all the times I was called it, all the times the Doctors put me on a special diet, or the boys didn’t call, or they suggested a salad instead, have magically been erased. God, I feel better now,

and knowing you would fuck me! Wow. Validation has never looked so caramel-coated: you think its sweet, til it ruins your teeth.