36- 24-36

The measurements of perfection

The ideal hourglass figure;

Big boobs, skinny waist, wide hips

5'8, a stomach so flat you can use it to draw straight lines on your paper,

luscious hair thats always in place,

A face so beautiful even the angels from up above get jealous

Strutting across the floor like a runway model, all eyes on her

She curves her lumpscious pink lips into a smile,

adding her sparkling white teeth to her perfection

How am I suppose to compare?

36-30-36

All I got is my 5 foot 6 height, the terrifying discovery

that every time I sit down, I have more rolls than a bakery,

A gap in my teeth that shows every time I open my lips,

lips that are scarred from a tendency to chew on them,

Acne covering my face like a mask, oily glands opening wide

If I were to walk across a runway, I would fall flat on my face

I sit in the back unnoticed, while she sits up front,

shining bright like a diamond.

How are we suppose to compare?

Society believes in the illusion of this perfection, beauty

How are real women suppose to feel beautiful

when all we can think about is how we are perceived?

How we can’t go shopping for clothing without thinking

the fitting room attendant is calling you a fat pig in their pretty little heads?

How can society put this weight on our shoulders,

telling us to lather our faces with expensive beauty products and not eat?

But the main question should be why we care what others think?

Because we are beautiful

Each and every one of us,

36-24-36 is NOT real beauty.