The Shrinking Woman in an Ever Expanding World

The shrinking woman tugs at the waistband of her jeans first thing in the morning
"They've stretched," she declares
To anyone who cares.
Her dress slides off her shoulders, barely clinging to her frame.
"After a few wears, this dress never quite fits the same."
No one really notices or cares about how she looks
As the bag on her back seems to overtake her with the weight of growing books
Books that didn't seem so heavy a few weeks ago
Back when there was a schedule she used to live and know
"3 square meals a day
can keep you going a long way."
But there are guilty pleasures and temptations to sin
Keep to the straight and narrow or sacrifice "thin."
The shrinking woman becomes so small in the eyes of the world
The world that sees her as nothing more than an attention-starved girl.
But she is not shrinking to fight the loneliness consuming the edges of her mind
She is shrinking back, unable to handle the size
Of a situation she can't control
She feels like she's falling and unable to grab a hold
Of anything constant.

She is shrinking because she feels small
The weapons that once were held tall, strong, and proud
Now fall and lie dormant on the ground
Instead of pointed out, they're pointed in
Causing hurt and turmoil within
She thinks she has no problem coping
As she begins to shrink.
But she declares that she is not shrinking.
The world is just ever expanding.