The weight of silence.

My bathroom scale and I currently aren’t speaking.

We used to have a sort of one sided relationship. She would greet me in the morning, I’d strip, then I’d jump on top of her. She never really said anything that I enjoyed hearing. She just let me walk all over her. It got old.

She was pretty much a wallflower. I’d try to pull her out onto the floor, but she always ended up back in a corner. Silent, yet judgemental.

These days I’ll give her a quick cold glance as I brush my teeth, but we don’t speak.


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