I’ll be in bed by nine fifteen
buried under at least three blankets
a piping hot cup of tea in my hands
no promise on my lips of
“New Year, New Me”
as though who I am today is
not good enough for tomorrow
no wish for my body to
take up less space
as though I am not worthy of
filling the world
I’ll wake in the morning to a
breakfast as big as my stomach can hold
because my brain deserves the
power to think and
my body deserves the
energy to live and
I deserve the comfort of
fullness and satisfaction.

I think that cup of tea will go
best with a slice of cake.