Dearest Melvi – Sincerely, Your Breasts

Dearest Melvi, 

I thought we had an unspoken understanding. There were times when I thought we were in sync, annoyingly so. We’ve been together for so long you’d think by now we could read each others minds but I suppose I was wrong. The love and respect that we once shared is so strained and tired now. I’m so tired… Tired of trying to get your attention again, tired of trying to get you to see my side of things or making you understand that I am more than just flesh. I’m a part of you and always will be whether you like it or not. So, I need you to step up your game! 

I long for the days when our love was new, fresh and seamless. Nothing between us but the thin veiled fabric of innocence and potential. Bring me back to those days when our love was boundless and free of the constraints this misogynistic society has placed upon us. Take me back to our love in its purest and freest form. My curves ache for those days. 

The days when I could feel your heart beating against my flesh, the rush that came with each sultry summer. Remember how free we were when you took me to that nude beach? To feel the heat of the sun on our skin and the thrill running through my veins. The light breeze on our bodies to cool us off and send a sensation to every inch of us. Bring me back to those days, I beg of you. The days of our youth; so supple, so tender, unmatched and unbridled.  

Now I rest in confinement, in the shackles of a false support system that you’ve provided for me. Ignored, overlooked and covered with the fabrics of shame. When will you relieve me of the tightness and stress you make me feel? The tender yet perky flesh that once empowered me now melts down your ribcage into a pool of sadness. That force that drew in stares of envy or desire has long disappeared. I can’t remember the last time a beautiful stranger even looked in our direction. When will I ever feel sexy again? When can we feel that high together again? How I long to be touched without your “mom guilt” and desired and needed solely for pleasure.

When we were young, when you had to cover up my bits you did so in delicate riches, full of color and pure sex appeal. The finest cotton, lace and silks to be adored and doted upon by admirers near and far. Now, you’ve ignored me for so long you don’t even know how to size my needs up anymore. You cover me in just any old-stained-drab-hobo-chic-fabric worn so thin its sinful and not in the good way. When was the last time you’ve even been able to look at me? My life, our life has turned into a prison of modesty, walls of beige and endless suffocation. Is that the life you wanted for us? We had so much potential. We used to have so much potential!

Shackled daily amongst the poly-cotton-blend of the common man,“gentle wash” my ass. Those synthetic fabrics cover me in nothing but discomfort and sadness. When did you stop loving me, loving us? When did you stop caring about your womanhood and femininity? We were a team, damnit! You and me! 

Who am I kidding? In my weakened and heart broken state, there is nothing that could save me from what is to come. I’ll never be the same, we’ll never be the same. I suppose we will always share the sweet memories of a love filled with glory and vanity. We can say good-bye to the nights that we could stop traffic and get ourselves free drinks. Oy, the travesty of what once was. Because once this second “miracle” of yours is done with me you’ll be lucky to get through your forties without major lower back pain and accidentally tucking me into your pants in the morning. Buckle up buttercup – its all stretch marks, nipple cream and gravity from here. 

Your tattered, deflated, angry and forgotten balls of nerves and flesh, 

Sincerely,

~ Your Breasts

P.S Black and beige aren’t the only colors that exist. Hook a sister up with something bold and bright.

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