Poem: Posture

Hunched over like
an ancient spinster
reading a book.
Self-consciously correcting my posture
until it is straight, regal, rediculous.
Breasts pointing straight,
chin held high.
It is said this is proper posture.
Healthier for you.
More handsome.
Like a Marine.
To me it feels like torture.
Like wearing a corset.
Unusual pains set in
places not usually felt.
Holding the posture as long as I can.
Neck hurting more this way.
It's said to be good for you.
This body isn't used to it.
Doesn't seem to have been made
for "correct" posture.
But I have to try, right?
The first things to go are my shoulders.
Slumping down and caving into my chest,
the weight pulls next my neck,
my whole back follows with it.
Hunched over like an
ancient spinster, reading a book.
Neck hurting.
It's time to move.