The crowd goes silent as I stand
They watch with earnest care
They desire to see what I'm made of
What number I have to share
My heartbeat quickens as I look out
And see each judgmental face
I know they're looking for improvement
Anything else is a pure disgrace
I fixate on the platform in front of me
Prepped to hold my weight
Prepared to humiliate
Or congratulate
To hold in its hands my number's fate
My feet feel heavy as they press
Against the metal square
My body feels humongous as
I hold my weight right there
My thighs are monstrous mountains
My stomach is a hill
I expect my number to be huge
As I hold my body still
I look below and brace myself
For what know is coming:
A number that will either cause
Applause or emotional numbing
I open my eyes and stare upon
The figures that are blinking
My mind absorbs them as they form
The thoughts the crowd is thinking
I can see the digits - the wretched trio
As they loudly announce my weight
I step off the scale and watch them fade
As they confirm my number's fate
