I Am Not A Magazine
I was only ten when I became anorexic.
I was starving myself
in order to become plastic.
Now I am strong, but I look around to see
People trying to tell me
my lack of beauty.
it is tossed around in magazines and books;
sold my companies,
corporations, whoever can hook
teens into reading page after page of
“techniques to be skinny” articles but hey
wait a minute
who defines beauty?
Who can tell me if I’m skinny enough?
Who can tell me if I should lose weight?
Eat better, exercise daily…
Have you seen the media lately?
Women objectified as toys with bleach blonde hair
With a diamond-shaped face and
Don’t even get me started on this thigh gap craze.
I have finally realized I will never be
the girl on the front of the magazine
with long legs and a tanned body
I’m short with a small bust,
and I don’t care what anybody
has to say.
Because I’m me.
And I’m beautiful
Exactly this way.
We are the generation
that could redefine
beauty into a new state of mind.
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