body image
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Fat
That’s what they call me
As if I didn’t already know
As if the doctors hadn’t already given me the heartbreaking diagnosis
Again and again and again
Fat
So yes I am fat
And yes I am tall
mirror mirror on the wall
tell me if i've gotten prettier at all.
don't tell me try harder, starve, carve.
mirror mirror on the wall
why is it so hard to stay so small?
i've done all you told me to do
When I look in the mirror
Who do I see ?
The unpretty black girl
Staring back at me
I hate everything that I see
Surprised you haven't cracked
When you see me
You know that I lack
I hate you.
It's taken me years but I finally said it.
I hate you.
I hate how you are able to make me feel about myself.
You make me pinch at my sides desperately praying that this tissue will go away.
Do you remover the first time you saw a plus sized man in a movie?
On TV?
In your local theater show?
What did he look like?
Did he smile?
Did he laugh so full his tummy shook?
My shoulder hurts. I have woken up
The clock reads 12:15.
For a moment, I thought it meant PM
I realize I fell asleep at 6.
Telling me it's not a piece of cake
No it's not, it's life, it's time, it's a waste
Spending my time hearing them say
It's not a piece of cake
It's not a piece of cake
It's not a piece of cake
A year ago today
I was picking up a razor in the school hallway
Telling myself I would just chuck it
While knowing I would not.
In the beginning of last December
Mirror mirror on the wall,
You’re not thin, pretty or tall.
What I show you
Makes you feel small.
My aim is to break you
Once and for all.
Back, belly, thighs, wrists. Which path do I start with? I take my red tape and wrap my arm up. Then my legs, I’m about to throw up.
A little girl looks in the mirror one day
And wishes her reflection would just go away
Echoes of torment resound in her ears
As her eyes fill to the brim with tears
Tingly, sensation running through my body
Excitement coursing in my veins
The unknown is everything before me
What has passed sets a foundation for today
The sky was black and gloomy,
clouds drifting in and out of my line of sight from the window pane.
The rain would come soon, nothing for help me again.
When I looked into the mirror on this cold and miserable day,
I know I’m beautiful.
The compliments are nice…
But not new.
Not meaningful.
Not unique.
You told me I was wearing a nice shirt-
The clouds held no light,
For there was not another in sight.
Artificial tears fell down her cheeks,
just as carefully as she could speak.
Her hope was lingering.
Today I’m talking about the experience of growing
It’s hard. Learning to evolve. Learning to be strong
But I am vital. I am loved. And today, I am glowing.
I learned early
my body is a weapon
Regardless of my intentions
it would be treated as such
With hungry eyes
I'd be blamed for someone else's actions
“You know what I was thinking?” She says to me,Peeking her head back around my doorframe.
Earlier that evening,I’d asked her what she was thinking about.
“Take a look in the mirror,
What do you see?”
I look and my mind whispers,
‘Athlete?”
But I’m just a bit too soft,
i feel so young
yet so awfully old all at once
i need life to slow down for me
because i can't decide who i am
or where i want to be
or what's going to come of all of this
i'm sorry I feel like dying somedays
i'm sorry that most days i want to be alone
so i shut down and i don't answer you
and i don't want to watch shows with you
and i don't want to talk
Alarm rings;
It’s time to wake up.
I view myself in the mirror.
Why can’t I look better?
My head is a war zone.
1. 2. 3. 1. 2. 3. pause
BEat drones like a belle
where does the noise aller?
interruption With pleurs
I've spent years wondering what self love felt like
I've longed for the gentle whisps of my smooth tips on my thighs
For the curve of my back and my heart to reach for the stars
Skin, smooth and tan, a glow
That the sun envy’s and the skies adore
A look so divine that I’ll never know
Curly hair delicately intertwined
The Greek Goddess of gorgeousness grounds herself in American society
To see what the social standards could be
Bullying breaks the beauty into a blue barbie
Attemping to aquire an acceptable acknowledgement
Almond Eyes,
searching for a piece of herself,
in a round-eyed town.
Her identity uncertain,
I never thought of my weight as bad
until you told me it was
I never thought of my skin as unpleasant
until you told me it was
I never thought of my height as problematic
What does it mean to have worth?
Is it something that is assigned to you at birth?
I have searched for the answer since I was a child,
And through my journey, I have become tired.
They pose ideals of perfectionism,
Which quickly became my critcism
They preach of beauty of this and not yours,
Yet this is what I believed as I grew
I remember picking dandelions as a kid
gathering a bouquet to bring to my teacher or mom
the innocence behind it
I didn't know that these beautiful flowers were actually
I distinctly remember the first time I saw
Most girls’ bodies start to change.
I was twelve years old.
I stared with amazement and awe.
Their long legs,
I take up space
Five feet, ten inches high
And as my hips are wide.
I've always taken up space
It's a bare necessity of being human.
Space in our lungs
Space through our veins
Change, I never preferred
Change, I just didn't like the word
But somethings cannot be controlled
I learned that at just eight years old
On a December day I was diagnosed
I am fat.
Some may say “same” or “retweet”
I am looking at you Ms. size four or five. SHUT UP.
Some of you are looking around the room
Take a breath,
pause.
Step back,
pause.
Am I okay?
Sit at home wondering why,
my body isn't like theirs.
My voice isn't like theirs.
It's like the world is,
Before... I was a humble slave
Bowing before your wishes.
I attempted to craft myself to your pleasing
But it never lasted.
How do you write something happy
that's also good?
My efforts always seem to fall short
when I attempt to write
about how the sun feels
on my skin,
because that skin contains scars
Crutches.
Two of them.
One strapped to each arm.
That’s the first thing they see,
But do they see me?
Stares.
my body is not your body. this is
not your bulging stomach, pocked skin, stubborn jaw.
stomach that. i'm my own woman.
my body has rights. it's its own free thing.
Sometimes life isn't fair and sometimes life isn't sweet.
My shiny head makes people stare as I walk alone down the street.
No, you can't touch, don't you dare.
It's a sensitive topic, so I cover up with a sheet.
I like lightly lit rooms, the way the sun would dance to the tune of the spinning earth.
Yet we as people would turn away to such a sight, hide from the light and ignore its worth.
This body
since birth
I've been told
To hate it.
"Your body,"
he told me,
"Is beautiful."
Does he lie?
This body
is the reason
To lie,
To cheat.
What you mean I have NO ASS?!
I’ve got the SONIC BOOM BOOM that rocks the room
I’ve got the BOOTYQUAKE that makes your CHOCOLATE SHAKE
I’ve got the ONION, the BUBBLE, the WIGGLE, the JIGGLE
While it's easier to cut butter
I'd rather slice open my arm
Because the pain is like no other
and it lessens my alarm.
And when the doctor finds the marks,
I'll just say I fell in the dark.
Am I good enough?
Yes of course,
But oh would short hair look so good on you.
Your clothes are nice,
But you should totally wear blue more often.
I have always loved tattoos
gorgeous art swirling through
one’s existence
But i have never
worn ink beautifully
Scars torn open
Today I am wearing anything but black solely to hide the fact that I am just sticks…
Just sticks set up in such a way that if you even tap my shoulder… you will be impaled without intention
I am an activist because women have no say, because kids think abuse is normal, because suicide is a game; a twisted version of a competition where killing yourself is a form of entertainment.
How to be pretty if you are unfortunate with your looks; a WikiHow
Be realistic, are you “ugly” or just simply average?
Average is normal
they say its normal for a teenage girl to feel not at home in her body
it’s a great change in scenery
Love Yourself, Speak Yourself
These are the messages carried through their speeches
In large rooms full of their critics
Under the hawk eyes of netizens
Waiting, watching
Bated breath
Why does someone loving my body feel like a favour to me?
Why does someone calling me beautiful feel as if they’re open minded. They’re progressive.
I could feel myself fading away
As I bit into the piece of cake
All because I was not strong enough to say no
I debated and contemplated until my stomach had the last word
"Just eat the damn cake" it said
Poetry is her own kind of beautiful
Actually she's a misfit
She doesn't need to wear the latest thing
She's comfortable in her own shoes
Our faces bounced off of every wall, as well
as the bodies of many with faces of despise,
Some of theirs would shrink and some of theirs would swell
Human connection has deminished and now all we have is technological connection.
Emotion no longer a human characteristic, but a nuisance.
Love is now a foreign language.
just words written down
nothing more nothing less
until they were words about
bodies
respect
food
fuel
no longer words
but a path to recovery
Esto es mi rostro,body; creaking, my wrist twisting, twisting, twisting, twisting...
Corporeal.
Sera este mi rostro?
is it the face in reflection shown,
reversed, turned over,
lighting warm?
she knows in her heart
it cannot be done
don't we all?
and so she does it anyway...
hiding behind a mask
seeking to achieve
Speak not of my bloodied chest,
but pray instead for some forgotten justice !
Fair Lady Wind, your presence is as welcome
as the flow of my precious life-blood.
I will evermore search of your beauteous
I think I could keep runningand run right out of my own skinI'd run in circles before I met youand by then you'd barely recognize me.Soon I could leave behind these excesses
A delicate balance, strong and frail
Warm and shivering, held in the palm
Hands that cradle and try not to break
On the edge of destruction, a startling calm.
She has no wings that can be seen
Next time I look in the mirror, I’m just gonna try to see me
Not some superficial image of who they want me to be.
If my eyes are deep dark brown, that’s what my momma gave me
If my lips are kind of full, well
Someone once said to me,
"You have a pretty face,
You should smile."
So I did.
Someone once said to me,
"Freckles make your face look dirty,
You should cover them up with makeup."
You propped your torso above the sweaty mat,
resting on tense arms, arms
rippling and sculpted and
wrapped in serpentine tattoos
I'd long stopped crunching my body into a pretzel
What am I?
a balloon, stretched taut
over a fauct and filled
til bulging then filled
and filled some more
Like a teddy bear, stuffed
with cotton until the seams
burst
I measured each spoonful of Mexican cheese
and sprinkled it, like a surgeon, over a bubbling omelette
Next was the avocado, sliced in smooth crescents
of green because that's the good kind of fat,
the best part of the norovirus
is that while it robs you of your breath,
leaves you sweat-shaking with hot chills in bed
it also steals your appetite
finally,
to be empty by no willpower of my own
i think in poems
when i see you
four lines stanzas that all begin in
how beautiful you are…
and how cliché that is
in my metaphors
I ran today. Not a long, five mile, sweat inducing run, no, I ran to the mailbox. How many years has it been since I last ran?
I look at myself in the mirror and only see a monster.
I see the fat that sticks off of my stomach; what am I? Pregnant?!
I see the stretch marks that line my legs, I must be fat.
Sometimes I feel about my body
the way meat must feel about
sausage casings. Too many
circles forced inside squares,
too many curves held captive behind societal bars.
I cannot wear the red blouse.
Lines that defined my curves taunted my eyes
Blurry tears dripping as I ran faster into dusk
To fit into a teenage concept of “sex appeal”
Dear Body,
I am sorry.
Dear Body,
You are the vessel that gives me life,
The structure that gives me unconditional support,
Hi, I'm skinny
I am five feet seven inches and weigh one hundred and five pounds
Yes, I have a flat stomach
Yes, You can see my collar bones
Yes, I have a thigh gap
And no, that does not make me beautiful
Dear J, I know you have your insecurities, but there's this candid photo of you and I that I just adore. You've pointed out everything you felt was flawed about you, but you didn't understand what this photo actually meant to me. I don't care ab
i never asked for thisthe dirty looks in the hallwaythe self-loathing i constantly feelthe unnecessary attentionthe way that i look in the mirror and see someone elsethe voice that doesn't belong to me
Dear Eating Disorder,
I loved you, with every inch of my pudgy body.
When I began to lose my mind, you told me to lose weight.
You held my life together.
I'm a bit confused
Because you say that you're clothes
Are one size fits all.
And that may be true
I see too clearly
that you are
a rigid string unwilling to bend
for, or to, others. Your plans are
obscure,
complicated,
Dear Beautiful:
From then until now
Your scars still show
Your tears are dried
and when people speak
it hurts.
Dear Beautiful:
You think you are so unnatractive
Dear Society,
You analyze the outside of my body,
My curvy, bodacious butt, and these hips that don't lie hunny
The three layers of rolls when I bend over and the wrinkles on my forehead,
Dear Those Who Think My Life is Perfect,
I go to sleep at night with one thing on my mind,
what if I'm not good enough?
What if I wake up tomorrow,
and no one likes me anymore?
Dear Mother,
Did you ever consider you didn’t love me?
Perhaps, only the idea of me.
I gave you purpose which you sought so desperately, I filled that void, that loneliness left deep within you like a chasm.
Dear Brianna,
I've seen things in my life
Others would never understand
I've seen alcoholism
Develop firsthand
I've seen families driven apart
All because of a broken heart
I have never been to great at math.
Numbers looks like hieroglyphics that
have yet to be tanslated into english.
Its symbols look like my 5th grade art portfolio scribbles,
but yet
Look at your face and your hair's small curls
you may not be a stick,
but you have the whole world
in your hands, between your shoulders, and even in your thighs.
Lacy undies on the cold tile floor,The delicate pink softly laying against the harsh reality.
I do this every morning, you know I look at that lacy underwear and I wonder.
Mirror mirror on the wall
What stories can you tell me?
Has life been kind to you upon this street
After being broken?
Many stop, stare, and look for their reflection
They don't see the story you hold
I don't have scars
I've never felt the tension
and the sweet release
a surprise so pure
and innocent
Breaking the surface
raw, primal pain
sharp breaths
Tangy, coppery
When you’re a child you long for secrets
Memories from long ago, hope for the future
Small collections of thoughts passed from person to person
“don’t tell anyone, please.”
You whisper between yourselves
It's interesting how you look at me:
You nose turned up,
Your lips scowl.
Do I look funny?
Is it my hair?
Am I in my underwear?
What is so repulsing about me?
Okay
Take a deep breath.
You can do this.
Three.
Two.
One.
Search for the shade.
Browsing,
Exploring,
Looking.
Getting to my shade.
Almost at my shade.
In the mirror,
I dread
The ancient scar on my knee
The mysterious mark on my cheek
The great size of my thighs
The stubborn crook in my teeth
The several creases on my stomach
I remember vividly that summer of 2012,
When I lost inches from the back of my body like a tortoise coming out of its shell.
All eyes on me
Watch me stutter, watch me slip
Watch me crumble at the pressure
Laugh and applaud
I craft masks and write acts
Carved out of marbleI see a sea of white and blueThese marble masks you wear to alter your facesOut of fears forced on you
Down chiseled mountain cheek, embrace the torrents of tears
Undammed by invisible monsters and irrational fears
Upon panicked waking during the witching hour
Don’t eat that.
I am just being honest,
Because I love you.
You will regret eating that,
A moment...
I am trying to help you,
Plain moths.
We follow the light
Never daring to touch it
Filters on our eyes,
Seeing things
That are far from the truth
Oblivious to realize the facts.
She came swiftly then.
Because i love you he said…
From what you see online as “goals”
But you never see how many tears she’s shed
And what happens through closed doors
having an eating disorder means wanting everyone to know and no one to ask
it means accidentally leaving your lunch at home and proudly telling friends no thanks when they offer to share
I was stuck.
Stuck in an endless cycle of destructive thoughts.
These thoughts controlled me for way too long.
I felt as if I had no control over how I viewed myself.
Everyday girls stand on the scales, and cry.
They look in the mirror and cry.
They look at themselves, see themselves as fat
when they are fading away to skin and bone.
Fire
it's everywhere
it's inside it's outside
some are strong and some aren't
fires are put out everyday
by water
and people
everyone has fire, some flicker some roar
They say
Shoot for the moon
Even if you miss,
You’ll land amongst the stars
But I’ve seen the glow of dreams fulfilled
In the crook of your smile
imperfection is a pimple.
an irregularity, red and raised
in the middle of your face when you are 11
to you it is unfamiliar
so you buy concealer
Screaming and clawing,Anxiety wraps her in its shroudWhile jeering insecurity roughly grabs her face forcing her to look
They always told me no one would love me beause i was big.
I never said a word of disagrement because they were right.
I watched as my friends threw up their meals saying, If you want to be pretty then don't eat
Oh, Mr. Plumber man,
I heard drips from my sink.
So I called you over,
to come and fix the leak.
It's not quite right.
No, it's too wide.
I can't get the height right,
And it's not even.
The color is all wrong,
I accidentally put spots.
This part looks all wrong,
I grew up as pretty being the only word that people described me as. It made me think i could never be anything else like intelligent or kind. But when i started gaining weight like a normal and healthy kid i was describe as fat.
My hands already know how to braid my hair
At 15, I cut my hairthe ends tickle my chin.sensational.
At 8, my hair is too short to braid.
She can always see her princess-perfect heart shaped face in the window
Doe eyes just big enough to weigh down the organ she pretends is still her heart
Do NOT be fooled by the narrative we are fed in our everyday lives, through media and fools. Eating disorders are not glamorous, do not let the lies seep through. Go ahead.
Bright lights and glamor, money and glitz
A beautiful dancer working in Delhi.
Bewitched by her form, a powerful businessman
Fails to see where her heart truly lies.
there’s something creeping,
creeping into my head.
a thought, not a voice.
but it still pricked deep,
making me flinch with the first few words.
With beauty and grace, comes with a fist to the face
Beauty and Passion both have a certain complexion
that one is almost always familiar with.
Slurs on the street become unwanted interrogation.
All humans are born free and equal yet it never seems that way,
Hateful words of society corrupt people from day to day
“Dress how you’d like your body is great!”
<p>Mirror, Mirror, on the wall;I'm standing here staring appalled.Whose that girl in the reflection,Laced with all those imperfections.
Society tells me that I am not beautiful.
That because I am not a size two super model with perfect skin, I am ugly.
Society tells me that I am not beautiful.
Mirror, mirror on the wall who is worst of them all,
I promise I try to stand tall.
I know I'm ugly, I know im worthless,
My body alone makes me nervous.
You don't have to tell me how bad I am,
i don't like the stripes I carry on my body.
Every time I look in the mirror I am reminded of the girls who acted stuck up and snobby.
My stripes are what keep me covered in the summer hours
My thoughts are too loud to
not let out,
But I don't
know what to
write about,
the rhymes spout
but they all sound the same,
they fall from
the clouds where
my soul hides,
"More, more." They say,
"More, more."
These voices won't stop
This emptiness won't be filled enough
"More, more." These voices continue to say,
"More, more."
More of what?
More friends.
I want to draw stripes on my body
use myself as a canvas
draw horizontal stripes
draw vertical stripes
draw diagonal stripes
Some days you are a puddle
barely rippling
in the steady breeze,
broken on the edges
where cracks took you away.
These times you will feel defeated,
America
Where they say to be yourself
But "yourself" should be beautiful
So you make Yourself
Only you know you will never compete
With the image on the screen
Or the perfect aesthetic squares
Look in the mirror.
What do you see?
Peer in the mirror, do you see something you wnat to see?
Most chances the answer is no.
However, don't let your mind fool you.
You are strong.
You are radiant.
Here on this broken ground I stand,
Flipping through the pages of history books.
I see evidence of God's loving hands,
Over a land that God they forsook.
America the beautiful,
When one looks into the mirror, they find
Satisfaction, security. I saw
Disappointment, disgust, all of my flaws.
Muddy-colored hair that’s never defined,
Irises lifeless, never do they shine,
Two eyes staring back as IRoutinely do as I'm told.Persuasion I have none, ButMy influence will becomeMore evident as you get old. I am worshiped more than God,Looked at more than passing time.I can see your true colors When we are together, butI
I'm meant to be strong,
By Default
I'm meant to be pretty,
By Default
I'm meant to smile,
By Default
I'm meant to be okay,
By Default
I'm meant to agree,
By De-
One Year Back:
Ribs sickly sticking through skin, spine running down my back;
Sunken craters haunt my face holding in eyes that don't shine anymore.
To my demise. Words cannot describe how emotional I was to make page 365. This year long story was my downfall and uprising surprising to become a person to wither yet bloom from the ashes and arise like the fire screeching phoenix.
It's been a long four years, each dwindling to an end a little faster than before.My last may be my last but it's all still just a first,Years and months of friends and then none.
She's silhouetted against a stark nothing.
You can see where the tear rolls down her cheek
And the skin clings to her bones as she bends down.
She's starving herself.
She doesn't realize she's in pain.
Women are taught from the day we are tiny bundles in our mother’s arms that our bodies are nothing but pocket change for man to squander.
“Don’t talk too loudly.
Don’t hunch your shoulders.
January of last year I thought the idea
of loving myself was inconceivable.
I was in a black hole, consumed
by the hatred I brought upon myself.
Fat girl wakes up in the morning
Fat girl tries on ten pairs of pants that does not make it look like her sides spill over
Fat girl keeps in the tears because it will smudge the makeup she is so proud of
Was he really that desperate?The words pound through my mind.Was he really that desperate?My legs threaten to give in beneath me. Was he really that desperate?
This feeling has sunk deep into my soul and I’m afraid that my body isn’t mine anymore.24 hours a day, 7 days a week.There’s no time for resting.This feeling makes me wish that the next day to come unfortunately wouldn’t.
You avoid food all day long…
Maybe just one slice of pizza.
As you chew, the calories accumulate at the bottom of your throat.
You’re in public...but it can’t wait.
I look away,
But the lost girl inside
is telling me to speak up.
I mumble an answer
But the lost girl inside
is telling me to yell.
I walk with my head down,
That Girl
I’m the girl with the sunny side smile
The girl with the head thrown back laughing.
I’m the girl with the fake identity
The girl with the plastered on grin.
According to society, I have never been extraordinary. I do not fit today’s standards of pretty. I am invisible.
I look in the mirror
And hope it's not true.
I look in the mirror
And wish I was pretty like you.
I look in the mirror
But this time I wish I hadn't wept.
I look in the mirror
I have hair on my legs, under my arms, and on my crotch,
But I do not consider it to be any different than the hair on my head.
Listen to me.
You
are
worthy.
No
matter
what.
I promise,
even if you
never looked
like this by
choice, it doesn't
matter, you are
When I was seven years old
In my mathematics class
Measurement setting in dread
Forty kilograms is the answer
I don’t remember the lesson I learnt
You see I knew the man, but not the message.Now I know the man and the message.The message is not in the magazines full of airbrushed models.That tell me everything that is wrong with my exterior.The message is that "I am fearfully and wonderfully
To be beautiful
To be hot
To have a skinny waist
To have a six pack
To have a Kim Kardashian butt
To have a baseball players' rear
It’s not an addiction,
Really it’s not,
But that mirror,
It’s a source of affliction.
Not long ago,
I could look in that mirror,
My hands are about
as cold and dead
as they can be
without actually being dead.
My hair is about
as long as can be
without actually being long.
My thighs are about
My hands are about
as cold and dead
as they can be
without actually being dead.
My hair is about
as long as can be
without actually being long.
My thighs are about
Sweat,
wet sheets stuck to sallow skin.
White light,
slices through the blinds. My room in slivers.
Morning,
coffee rich breath and that stale brain.
Mirror,
I am so over things being aesthetically pleasing.
I am so over someone choosing one thing over another because they think it is more beautiful.
We are all culprits.
But since when is symmetry all that we care about?
I sat myself down and
Talked around
The points
Like usual.
Suddenly
I burst from
My seat and I
Collapsed in a heap
As the inferno of complexity
Beauty is a broken mirror.You try to pick up the piecesNot caring that the sharp edgesPierce your natural skin.The rough edges scar your body; They create jagged lines across something Already beautiful.
At thirteen I lost my reason to live,
my sister, Virginia, became a stillborn
My heart was torn in not two, but a hundred pieces
A demon was created inside of my head
I was told from others she deserved to die
Dear nine yr old me You are a Nubian princess Wear your hair Dark and lovely A crown of curly wool On top of your head Do not pale in comparison To the brighter or whiter Your skin radiates Glows as bright as the night sky Above a flourishing Ede
I am 14 and I am sinking to the bathroom floor for the third time this week.
I read all the instructions,
Filled out all the forms,
But still I have fallen behind.
I never speak up in class,
me am i i could never change me odd even if it were forced and bashed yet you, he, she, and them yet you, he, she, and them think me should change but me me begs to differ m is inseparable from e e is glued to m m is glued to e m is equa
I killed that little girl
Thought she wasn't good enough for this world
Buried her deep in the past
She was unearthed at last
My darling, I'm so sorry for what I did
Everything good about you I hid
She smiles glass shards, spilling from her tongue
I do not smile back, blood spilling from my mouth
Neither of us swallows back our grievances
i dragged my tongue over the moon,
bit down on craters, binged on dust.
i ate the moon dry because
i needed something to fill me up.
1. Strip down to nothing in your bathroom. Avoid looking into the mirror. Remember everything you’re feeling isn’t real, this is all just some messed up dream you’re living don’t let the dream mess you up too
I am numb to the words in my head all the time,
But I'm still feeling lost and lonely inside,
My friends can have fun and live their own lives,
While I'm stuck in the mirror feeling broken inside,
I try to numb the pain.
The pain of everything and of nothing.
The pain that I cannot put into words
And the pain I try so hard to control
The pain that somehow always seems to find its way out
I was five years old when my family moved from the home we had lived in for so long. We moved to a new school, with new friends, and new problems. My mother had just given birth to what seemed at the time to be the antichrist, we call him Evan.
I am a woman.
My stomach is not flat,
but my skin is soft.
My lips, they whisper
Gentle soothings through the night.
I am a woman.
Hair shows itself upon my legs;
My breasts are supple;
your bones protruding through skin
nails through blocks of wood
this is not love.
and skipping dessert
for a boy
who never looks in your direction
this will not make him notice you.
There is nothing better
than spiritual convergence with the physical.
When my mind wanders
unknowingly into the deepest
Parts of itself.
This is a poem that my friend, Veronica, and I wrote. Hope you enjoy!
Your feedback would be greatly appreciated. (:
Thick
You called me that
Tonight.
I opened myself up
A Krazy Kahlo and Picasso
By Lauren Ward
All I Need Is a Painting.
A Picasso. Or maybe a Frida Kahlo.
When I was young I hated the summer
Sweat, tight clothes, overflowing out of stiff shorts
Sucking in, holding my breath
Standing up stiff and straight- I couldn't wait to be underwater
Where no one could see me
It all startedOn a sunny dayWalking by the brownstonesAfter seeing a play.I was eightWhen I said I wanted to be an actress.And I didn’t shut up about it.It was a dream,A big,sparkly,
Our bodies are not temples,
I will not be invaded as such.
We are ecosystems.
Made of grit, and blood
and change.
Packed with multitudes of intricacy,
we love like gushing streams.
Plant kisses with your fists,
All over my body.
Hit me, kiss me, to me they're the same.
Tug at my skin,
With your hands and teeth-- I'd still love you--
Choke me, provoke me, to me it's all the same.
LISTEN, who told you that God could not be a woman?I am almost 6 feet under my own fearsand I have no holy power to turn tothat is a reflection of me.Who shoved their generationally skewed
Hourglass, tiny waist,
perfect hair, pretty face
Crystal clear, porcelain skin
24/7 spent in the gym
Water only, no food diet
Ya know that quiet boy
That gets bullied every day
Then you say you’re not at fault,
Because you had nothing to say
When a guy who’s got it made
how can i stand up straight with the weight of the world on my shoulders
how can i stand up straight with no confidence to hold my shoulders back
see since i was young i've been trying to make myself smaller
Sometimes I am a messI make a lot of mistakesI've drankI've smokedBut I am still perfect.
Dear Mom.
On days like this
when I can’t get out of bed to go to school,
it’s not because I just don’t want to go to school.
Sitting on my stomach
burning the wet tissue.
sadness fills the void.
never
good enough, not
anymore.
hating self-control
This one goes out to all of the girls sitting in the audienceWho have had their heart broken!
Come on! Raise your hands!Don't be afraid to admit that some guys just deserve to go to Hell!
Yeah, I’m skinny what’s it to you?
No, I’m not anorexic.
No, I’m not bulimic either.
No, I am not just skin and bones.
I have a high metabolism, and I have a hollow leg that runs in the family.
A lot of what people "need"Is a person,That's love;Is an item,That's greed;Neither are for me.I don't "need" anyone,I don't need any single item.What I need is much simpler.All I need
Narcissism. Bullshit. Love is beautiful. Love is strong and love is proud.
Why in the Now are we told we are nothing without love
but
not
allowed
to
love
ourself?
Feet together
Head up
Collarbones out
Flat tummy
Hipbones jutting out
Hair long
Pin straight
Sleeves back
Clear wrists
Eyes focused
Blue sky
Fake smile
i’m beautifulbecause i demolish my poltergeistswith syllables that pulse under my skin,a crescendo of the ivory keyswhen the tempo is accelerando;because i can and willopen your cranium
shove a mirror down my throat so I can focus on what's really important. I promise I won't choke. my esophagus has been conditioned with two digits.
Anxiety-ridden pen tapping
Disguised as alluring, melancholic beats
Stress-biting nails bare
Until blackened self-hate
Pours out of the tips of your fingers
I am… The Lady
I am the lady who likes muscle, not malls.
I like the feeling of how the power and strength that surges through my mind and body and soul creates harmony amongst my demons
I could pass an hour telling youwhat’s wrong with me, delving
into every nook of my weaknesses, every
cranny between my ribs. I could pass a day, if
Look in the mirror
Now tell me what you see
Well, If you'd ask me
I'd say a set of small eyes
And a huge nose
And a ridiculously fat stomach
And sausage toes
I hide from the world,
Something not uncommon to see.
But when you peel back the layers,
You find what is really me.
I am fire, I am light.
I have flame inside my soul.
I crush me between my fingers and palm, squeezing tightly - relentlessly
Into my balled up fist I threw the things that make me me.
The bad things -
India ink harpoons its way into fabric
strung around alabaster bone,
staining cloth with polychromic significance,
injecting an artist’s rendering of alternative beauty
between the stitches
“you are what you eat.”
an english proverb - if you eat well, you will be well; but if you eat badly you will feel bad.
i used to eat icing behind the couch, shovel it into my mouth like the dirt i played with outside.
i’m seven and alive, and i...
My imperfections
They lie beneath
Veins and arteries and flesh
I have locked them behind
The solidified bars of my ribs
They reach out through the spaces
And try to lock lips with confidence
The more fat-filled shit you shovel in your pie-hole, the less it hurts.
Shove it all down your throat until you can hold no more.
Feel the warmth of your filled stomach.
It expands farther than normal.
I can’t remember when she last said
“I love you”
And I can’t remember when
“Good night” turned into
“You’re late again.”
And I can’t remember the last time
There was a smile on her face
You look in the mirror, you poke and pinch,
turn to the side, suck in, wish you could lose just one more inch.
You swear up and down you've already eaten,
by "skinny thoughts," you already feel beaten.
When she looks in the mirror,
she pouts, she turns, sticking her chest out further,
she wants to pull at the rolls of fat,
she wants to wipe the makeup away
or else just cry it all off.
Skin.
And beneath that, muscles.
Nerves and vessels move between.
Blood flows.
Heart pumps.
Legs and arms flex and relax.
But is that me?
Smiles, frowns, wrinkled brows.
Laughter echoes.
Compare a leaf to a log
and point out all its flaws
it isn't brown enough
it isn't tough enough
it isn't round enough.
Compare yourself to a peer
and confirm your worst fears
When I press my fingers to my throat,
There is a tick tock tick, a metronome
Like the clacking of the keys when I wrote
The arches of my ribs are home.
When our bodies ache and yearn,
Some foundation, some powder
Don't forget to line your eyes
And paint your lips
And just a little bit of blush
And cover up that pimple
That eye is a little bit bigger than the other
They are the focus,
They have colors of wonder,
They reveal a glow,
They reflect a meaningful soul,
They are your eyes.
It tugs at two corners,
It comes in many shades,
It uncovers radiance,
On Tuesday I ran home
Just to get away from school
I can't stand how the people
Are so judging, are so cruel
They look at me, disgusted
As if they wish that I was dead
To the girl
Who helped me love myself
When all I saw was
Failure.
When I looked at her, at first
All I saw was
Everything I wanted to be:
Her straight, shiny hair,
Petite frame,
REBIRTH
by Katharine Royal
I've just returned from a wake, a funeral and a burial...my own
I felt the pains of the me I'd come to know...and hate...dying
Those who said that teenage years would be memorable didnt think for those who cant even be happy anymore.
They didnt think about the new generation .
A penny for your thoughts...
Though your thoughts are worth so much more.
Pot them with love;
water them them with kindness,
and everything you want
will come to you as you grow
taller and taller
Do you know what it's like
To wake up every morning to the same damn ugly face
To look in the mirror and wish that your body wasn't so blemished with scars and imperfection
In this generation why
why is it that the number of likes on your latest selfie
determines your beauty
While the girl behind the screen
hides her insecurity behind the filters
I’m a sophomore in High School with a brain that never stops,
Ranging from thoughts, ideas and memories I cannot “crop”.
I’m fifteen years old with a mouth that runs from morning to night,
I found the tears of your abandoned soul while searching for the life of mine.
And no, dear, some things can’t stop time,
But if I could break all of my pocket watches,
Maybe the boxes that split you would disappear.
My arms have gotten fat and weak
My thighs are soft and plush
The weight I gained is in my cheek
My stomach feels like mush
My former self ws thin and weak
Although I thought her strong
No one can begin to fathom my life today,
Running, rushing to get to that place someday
I am imperfectlopsided smilea single dimpled cheekan abundance of freckles and blemishescrooked spinethe scars that are scattered amongst my body tell my story
Frizzy ringlets of hair,
tamed into thick braids.
Slick hair,
down to your waist,
blowing everywhere.
Too-long bangs,
constantly pushed out of your face.
Loose curls
limp and beautiful.
Sharp, angled cheekbones,
like mountain tops.
Silhouetted against the azure
of your hair.
Jutting collarbones,
filled with shadows--
of the past?
Of your mind?
Prominent ribs,
I crossed the street in search of my campus' Panda Express
and a car rightfully yeilded.
As I passed, the car drove closer and slowed
and a young man, though older than myself, poked his head from the back window.
I remember when I used to show you pictures of deprived girls,
With ribs that protruded like the fingers of a rake
And you’d give me this dumb look and say things like,
“That’s a little unrealistic, don’t you think?”
Working for money is hard and stressful.The toilet brush always drips, mildew grows like weeds.Try as you might your efforts are unsuccessful. The beetles still leak from the cracks, desperate for the crumbs that feed.
I want a lover to touch them and whisper,
"Here you have a constellation of stars."
He'll trace them with the tip of his finger.
I will tell him that moles and birthmarks
Filters on photographs
hide so many things
like the freckles on my nose
and the acne on my cheeks
Filters on my words
hide the real me
how I sometimes cuss like a sailor
Anna
“You can’t have sex wearing a wig” she said
That line could’ve made me laugh
If she wasn’t clutching the sides of her head
Wondering what choice did she have.
I'm the moon,
not the star.
I'm more natural,
Normal.
I do not amaze,
not everyday.
I leave you
breathless
on November afternoons
when you see me through
I have freckled cheeks and chapped lips.
I have never known what to do with my hair,
and I'm sure I sweat my makeup off before lunch everyday.
I am not pretty.
Because pretty is a flower,
There ain't no holding me back
Understand this is who I am
So when you plan to attack
Just know that I don't give a damn
I can't stand deception;
Altering the realness'.
I am smiling too wide,
I am looking too directly at the photo lens
Click. Click.
I tilt my head just a little bit further and I will feel pretty
Click. Click.
Too bright. Delete. Too shiny. Delete
I don't recognize my own reflection anymore.
That sad, broken girl in the mirror can't be me, can it?
How did this happen?
How do I fix this?
That's it. No more selfies.
No more selfies will I post,
I’m short.
Really?
Are you SERIOUS?
I NEVER noticed!
Thank you for informing me.
I was hoping 5’ 3” would be tall enough
to reach the cupboard
Without standing on my toes
I am me in my purest form
I am me and all I adorn
I am the rolls hidden under my shirt
and under my nails, I am the dirt
I snore while I sleep
I lisp with my retainer
In the shower I weep
I was born with the sun in my teeth and hair
with mercury pouring out of my fingers and toes
Unburdened with the notion of needing to be anything
at recess I practiced the sprinkler
so I could be everywhere at once
My forehead is a little too tall
My nose is a little too there
My face is round and my hair just does this thing
I don't really care that insert celebrity name here is dating
There's a funny little saying
You are what you eat
So watch what you eat cause
You are what you eat
Can't have fast food
You're fat
Can't have that cookie
That's sugar
Today we are told to be thinner, eat less, work out more; that our beauty has a standard we need to brace ourselves for.
A man.
Standing tall with his head held high,
to bad there's no gap between his thighs.
A man.
With eyes that only see the future,
if only the world could see his tummy tuck suture.
Yellow oozes with every step
the air of confidence seeps
through holes in a glowstick
leaving a plastic shell
and a mess
she walks through the halls
empty
leaving the trail
I'm not like them video girls with the big butts, I don't have gold flowing from my palms like King tut.
Contradictions are all around us
Pretty Ugly.
Mad Happy.
Well than let me be the walking contradiction of perfection.
My thigh's don't touch. No Photoshop needed.
"Your flaws are your perfection"
This what I've always been told
That I am perfect because I am not
But I disagree
I bet you base your judgement of me off my profile pic
The way my camera set up I can alter the negatives and replace with positives
You see what I allow you to see
What I see before I edit is tiny pimples mocking me
i am
smart
kind
funny
compassionate
and if given the chance
i would change nothing.
not my hair
or my body
or my situation.
they are what make me
i am composed of my
An apology is much overdue
For all the harm I've caused;
More so with the harsh words,
Which daily fell from my tongue.
The cuts and bruises once came
From being young, wild, and free.
Curly Hair
laughing eyes
Big, bright smile
laughter wrinkles, slanting
towards well traveled eyes
painful and dear
memories treasured in the heart
Why do we strive for "perfect"?Adding filter upon filter to photos in hopes to achieve the highest amount of "likes" possible.Why do we try so hard for these intangible praises for our appearance?
Clean?
Clean, clean, clean...
clean...
one more time...
just one more...
twice more...
thirce more...
I swear I'll stop...
soap, water
scrub, scrub, scrub
hot, scaulding
Mirror, mirror,
On the wall,
Tell me what you
see.
When I look at
You
I don't like
What's looking back at me.
I can't pretend
I like the way
F or those who lose sleep over the opinion of sheep,
L ose a sene of self-respect.
A dmiration for the things I have done
W ill never define who I truly am.
L eadership fuels my body on a daily basis, however
I am a goddess
A creation so divine that - galaxies will swirl in my veins- black and blue like a brusie so freshly wrought that the tinges of purple seem to darken the hues
Staring into my reflection is a daunting one
I see a girl with too much mascara,
that she liberally applied to impress people who couldn’t care less
I see a girl with a broken smile
Prick my finger on thistle
That speaks sweetly, of royalty
Find the moth-eaten holes in its words
Through the smell of my copper-scented blood
Trap me in amber and hide me away
My shadow's a Sequoyah, so tall and big,
But I'm just a twig.
It's branches extend,
While mine just bend.
Trunk kept erect by skinny roots,
Body kept standing by fragile shoots.
It's glory undaunted,
How does it happen?
That moment when you first realize a flaw?
I thought: So many people hate themselves.
I have many names.Some call me Aphrodite or Venus,But you know me as Beauty.
Don’t listen to what others say.I am not vain,Only aware I am what God wanted in Eden.Am I wrong for enjoying what I was handed?
There are demons pressing in on me.
There are demons pressing out on me.
It's as if when my eyes hit the mirror
they hit the bullseye for my body to grow.
the bullseye is really a trigger.
Lose the Suit
By Nicole Mashek
I am never sure if I should be dissatisfied or take pride in the identity I have made throughout my growing years.
Some people judge you
Most people want to be you
What do I want?
Acceptance
I can’t change who I am
This is the only life I have
I will always be
Too skinny
Never have I seen anything about myself as flawless;
The cuts that once covered my body, like paint strokes on a damaged canvas,
"Be yourself"
I hear that a lot
But it's hard to be myself when people hate me
"Be yourself"
My mother said in one ear
As society said in the other to change everything else
“Look at her, what she does, atrocious, repulsive, how wrong.”
Numbly I agree, since the talks not about me,
Yet if I had the choice, I’d speak my inner voice to those who judge blindly.
FLAWLESS
I lay in bed, pillow filled with tears,
had I known any sooner
i would not be going through these years.
Im hungry from an anorexic heart
a hatred of my self image,
It started when I was young. Teased by my family.
Move you fat cow, you're blocking the TV.
When I came to this world
I was but a blanket of snow
Clean and unmarred
It’s hard to keep my snow
Fresh and clean
When others taint me
With dirty footprints
That make me feel less
Just like that,
I curl inside the empty cavern between rib bones and hip joints,
just like that,
He says you're not pretty,
your breasts are too small,
and your butt - nonexistent,
He says you're borderline ugly,
so you believe him,
and you can't say you don't because you do,
I begin with a universal statement: Growing up sucks.
being caught in the in between sucks in a lot of ways,
and everyone has dipped their toe in the primordial pool of puberty
When I was a 14
I went on a school trip
We ate dinner at a
Buffett, when I
Feeling full still
Walked up with my
Friend who didn’t want
Grabbing at the fat between your skin, stretching it further and further until the point where you just hope it will disconnect from your body
She stood.
She faced her worst enemy. Looked her dead in the eyes.
Even though her enemy's face was cracked and broken, the enemy stared.
A menacing growl came from her lips.
But,
She stood.
Insecurity.
Doubt.
Codependency.
Self-hate.
I have encountered the misfortune of being in an abusive relationship with each.
I dated Insecurity for a few years.
I'm sick of being known
as the girl with the curves,
the girl who has to show some skin
in order to be heard.
All I want is some respect
and a little more eye contact.
I'm sick of being known
Carefully, she wraps herself in her very own, invisible cloak, one just like how Harry Potter had except not quite
For only the innermost layer of her being is hidden, the one she’d only show when she was at home
Snap
Well, it’s broken now
Does anyone really want it now?
Who would want a broken arrow?
Useless
That’s all it is
“Beauty”
Beauty is such a misunderstood word
The definition is often confused
Beauty is not Photoshopped
Beauty is not replicated
Beauty is natural
Beauty is everyone and everything
My life is hidden
Behind the curtain of my fears.
'What if' is the repeating question
Never looking for a reason but always being there
To feed doubt into the monster that is worry.
I am beyond forgettingForgetting about loveLossOr any other emotion or feeling.I am beyond forgettingForgetting who I amTrulyOr who I was.I am beyond forgetting
No piece of artwork looks the same,
because they are not meant to be,
yet we still stare at the mirror
Since having long hair being black and being tall stands out
Thats how I obtained attention from people
Was I happy then? No
Society is blind not by the eye
Guys fall in love with what they see
Trying to be beautiful making one cry
He knows she falls for his sweet words
It really doesn’t hurt,
But yes, I know my weight.
I see the way I look,
And I see you looking too.
It really doesn’t hurt,
Besides, even I make jokes,
My odd shape is comedy gold,
Downgrading someone’s beauty because of the shade of their skin?That’s like loathing a flower for the colour of its pigment.Lessening someone’s attractiveness because of the texture of their hair?
What makes me tick
are these sick, unrealistic expectations
of women.
“It’s what’s inside that counts.”
Well, how the fuck am I supposed to believe that
when my worth is determined by my appearance?
I don’t know whether to shout being ugly is okay, or that I’m beautiful anyway, because society has taught me I’m wrong in everything I do.
"Real women have curves"
A real woman has the nerve
to say, I'm large and that's okay
but don't tell me, a skinny girl
I don't have a say
In her identity
Her gender
Her worth
My Insecurities/Tearing my own skin/Drowning in my own thoughts/I am the creation of wonders/Rebuild my body, mind, and soul/Write out my demons/And tear the paper instead
The haunted statue,
Waits,
Alone and pondering,
Chipped and oxidized to the point,
Of unrecognizable.
Struggling to stay timeless,
Beautiful,
Waiting.
When will my hero come?
My Body is an ocean
It is graceful and it is powerfulIt is strong
In the beginning, there was nothing.
There were only dreams.
The first day, God made darkness.
It likes to fill your thoughts
The Feels are slowly seeping in.
From deep within I feel them rising.
Growing stronger by the moment, I wonder if I can fight them.
I put on a grin and bear the day.
I know that this is the only way.
The road before her,It goes left and right,Making bends way too tight.She imagines her hips,Nothing like this road.Those thoughts begin to unload.Again they haunt her,
The number, the size,the sanity, the happinesswane.
This is what you wanted, isn't it?
Flat stomach, thigh gap,slim waist, and prominent bones,achieved.
I once met a young woman by the name of Ashley,
So beautiful she was to me.
With hickory eyes,
she had a heart-warming smile that caught me by surprise.
So shy she was,
hesitant to believe she was pretty.
Feeling like a loser
My neighbor is a boozer
Been used alot of times
I feel like a user
People spittin out my name like they know it
Crossing the line to the end then it's over
At times I feel such anger and animosity. I let time pass and it will dissipate into guilt and disappointment.
She feels them staring at her.
The energy it gives off
Makes her want to jump out of her skin.
I am tired of walking outside,
surrounded by a group of friends
or a group of strangers alike,
erasing my focus from the joy of the moment,
but instead honing in on how
my thighs compare
The other day, I was talking about how much I weigh
and how this affects my life,
and the person I was talking with said something to me.
Staring at the stage, amazed
Leaps lighter than air, feet pointed in straight perfection
The gems dazzle as the light hits them, as they gracefully flaunt across the floor
I wish
Never could afford dance classes
No one realizes how much self hate it takes to make yourself starve, get sick, or do things to your body, unless you have experienced it.
All the time I see it happen, all around me it goes on.
What do I do? Why do I do it?
I Stand Up! I Fight Back!
I fight for the little guy.
I fight for what's right.
I do it for those who need help.
Everflowing, gentle, soft,The black thread dangles.Once a contributor to the strength of a whole,The unity stood uncorrupted, pure.
Look at me
What do you see?
My body is hollow
I want to be free
Free from this curse
That keeps getting worse
When I look in the mirror
It won't be reversed
The sound of her voice was something no one has ever heard before, it was as if the heavens above had created a melody that would instantly cause peace and security in every soul that spoke to this wonderful presence.
Daddy always wanted a little soldier;He wanted his girl to be fierce, and strong.He was a marine, and I never tried hard enough.
my lemon steady collecting weighing down creating pressure. The more lemons the more pressure.. the more weight to create juice..
now lets make lemonade...
Golden like a retriever he use to be an old yeller
until the eighth of September when they had to put the kid
Those poor girls, this poor me
trying to navigate womanhood
not knowing which way to look,
It's strange how time passes. Snapshots of teachers and now-empty classes. Echoes of my past in gray and white, now like doves take flight. The halls of schools and hollow sounds, now within each memory abound.
Your eyes meetThe hollowed gaze of your reflectionSunk in cheeks andBony hands
When everyone told youYou were beautifulYou claimed their words wereUnbelievable
Ask the girl in the glass how she survives on just air.
Ask her, how does she last when she devours nothing but despair?
And remorse coats her every attempt to ignore what she sees,
There is something very perverse about society. The way women are expected to look...like pre pubescent-adolescents, with no hair anywhere, perfect skin, teeth and hair.
To the little girls on bedroom floor,
praying for swollen breasts and long hair.
To the teenage woman,
trading incoccence like baseball cards for
what they believe is acceptance,
The whispers from within the crowded halls
They giggle as they stop and stare
You start to cry as silence falls
They judge your body, skin and hair
Who was I?I was a little girl who went to mass every Sunday and sang “Santo Santo Santo” to the heavens as the salseros played sprightly music in the balcony of the church.
Who was I?I was a little girl who went to mass every Sunday and sang “Santo Santo Santo” to the heavens as the salseros played sprightly music in the balcony of the church.
Listen, sister, for this talk unsettles me. Stop here. Because
You are not the sum of things you have made.
You are not the sum of others' judgements, opinions - no.
When I was younger
I came home from school
To play with my Bratz dolls
That looked so cool
When I was younger
I saw on t.v.
These beautiful ladies
That don’t compare to me
You look in the mirror but
what you see isn't really you
Sure it's you standing there
but it's missing something too
You don't see the way your eyes sparkle
when talking about something you like
They called her names
They laughed as she cried
They pretended to be friends with her
They filled her head with lies
She believed their words
She took it to heart
Look at her, look at me;
its gold, versus silver,
the sun against the moon.
Where she shines, I am dim;
saught after, and alone,
the Beauty and the Beast.
I think it sucks that we only have mirrors and pictures and selfies to see who we are.
To see the light manifest itself in a way that shapes the reflection of our bodies and our scars and the things that scare us.
I'm a Math Geek, sure.
I've got charisma, too much!
Combine them, It's me!
Am I considered lucky,
to live in this land where I am considered free,
or am I considered a prisoner,
behind bars that are simply a reflection of ME.
Deep within each human
There is a drive, a need
Different fires burn for every man
All expressed within a seed
A seed that grows with every season
The changes are occuring
The season are flowing
The girls are all working out, while the boys run about
She looks in the mirror and what does she see?
Not a beautiful girl of only 17,
READ ALL ABOUT IT!
But do you really?
A boy in the back of the class scars on his wrist.
The girl in the front throws up to keep her figure.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH US?
Life is like a burning candle
soon we will burn away
slowly but surely
we are not here to stay
we were made to be a light and warmth
but not to last forever
just because we a fading
When there's photoshop, creating gods' of "perfection" and the girls around me are wearing makeup that brings "the best of their qualities" out.
Mom and Dad want me to evaluate the broken,
To diagnose them with the disease we all have- surreal survival,
She watches as the blood swells and slides down her hand.
She releases her emotions.
She cries.
The world is over.
No emotions.
Emotions cost too much.
No happiness.
Happiness bleeds to pain.
This is not about me
This is about someone I see everyday
She’s sad, depressed
Tearing over spilt milk
She’s a coward
Doesn’t speak against anyone else
She does as she’s told and never speaks up.
One Job May Change My Life
Fighting for the justice of innocent civilians
Becoming someones "hero"
Beyond a dream
on a stage
it isn't about me
it isn't about fans, fame, fortune or other words thrown around by those who have too much and give nothing
I stare at my wrists
Blood dripping red
Trying to drive
the demons from my head
Do I jump
Do I stand
On edge waiting
With a blade in my hand
I want to live
I stare at my wrists
Blood dripping red
Trying to drive
the demons from my head
Do I jump
Do I stand
On edge waiting
With a blade in my hand
I want to live
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I remind myself each day.
Of course, not everyone thinks of beauty the same.
Rosy were of her lavish cheeks,
What a shadow the flourescent moonlight leaves
Complimented by the icy crystals traveling down in trails towards her heart
It's a wonder how such chaotic strife can be such beautiful art
Some people refuse to acknowledge the limitlessness of their beauty.
An indicator of this type of person is the recalcitrance of their shackled acquisition
When it comes to my size, people assume things
"I don't exercise, I eat too much, I eat poorly, I don't care what people think"
Well that is damn wrong.
When I was born, my mother gave me a pearl
It was flawless and shiny and beautiful and mine
My purpose is unknown, unfuffilled.
I feel like there's nothing to live for.
Helping others out of my own free will;
That desire, that passion, makes my heart soar.
I listen to people attentivly,
Trotting daringly through the meadows of flowers
I feel the pulse beneath my feet
Frolicking with the whisp of the wind
I hear it stirring
Bringing me closer and closer until suddenly
I kneel
My girlfriends and I were in the gym.I lifted five pound dumbbells. They went on the most intense machinesat the highest speeds.Sweat poured out of their pores
Her skin is made of wrapping paper
So she can tear it off easily
When it becomes too painful to be her
She sees her waist through a magnifing glass
Large stomache, small ass
She has begun to shrink
Welcome to my Nightmare
She broke another bowl today.
It was the second one this week.
Twelve
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Anonymous,
Who knew you could ever live in a world so perfect.
I mean cruel.
This is my body.
Chipped nail polish on short nails
That aren’t even bitten off evenly
Fingers with sparse hairs on them,
That sometimes there and sometimes aren’t
It is said that repeating the same task over and expecting different results is the definiton of crazy. But if one repeats the same task over from preschool to college expecting success, would they define us as crazy too?
She grabs a magazine and looks inside
All these "perfect women" fill the contents
A false reality seen with her eyes
Comparing herself to literal nonsense
The flawless faces photoshopped to perfection
I sat out behind the house for hourswaiting for something to come home.It has been days since the wind has blownand I have ingested the sun to show youhow bright I really am.
One, two, three,
Four, five, six.
Look in the mirror,
Lick your lips.
Pluck and pull,
Scrub and conceal.
Watch what you eat,
Don't eat that meal.
Why do we play
I have never met a woman who told me she thinks she's pretty
I don't know if it's because they aren't confident
or because they've been trained to think they shouldn't be
But either way
Woke up late again.
Jump out of bed and fumble for the light.
Shuffle to the bathroom.
Brush teeth, wash face.
Jeans, t-shirt, makeup.
converse, glasses, watch.
i’ve always said i’ll never bear a son or daughter,
or any being in between,
or nothing of the combination;
but i wonder if that’s the key
to replenish the life in me,
to grow my flower;
Will ya look at that pie?
Oh my. Oh my!
Whipped cream piled high.
To die! To die!!
I'm sworn to a diet.
I sigh. I sigh...
With all of my might.
Oh why? Oh why?
Remember to believe in the sun when its not shining
Remember when you think you cant, that its worth trying
I hope you never kiss your mother
With that mouth
Hatred would pour from your lips
Filling the one person who loves you
I was raised by men as hateful as you
Too many teens sit on the steps in their house after school
with tears on their face and blood on their wrists.
They get out of school and they load their home screen on facebook
or twitter
or tumblr
Mirror mirror on the wall,
you make these girls feel very small.
Megan Fox and Brittany Snow
the faces we all love and know.
Everyone loves a size two,
how come that isn't you?
I am left with no words when the mirror yells back
All of my faults.
All in one frame
i sat in my imagination
recreated music videos
imagined my skin bleached
by the lights
as the music made my hair
feel long,
How easily appearance changes.
Through months
And months
Of procedures.
Each month tightened,
And loosened,
Tightened again.
Only to leave my mouth
Aching,
Headache
Looking in the mirror again,
Remind my-self to see.
The person looking through to me,
Is more than just skin deep.
See it all began with a feeling a feeling of emptiness of loneliness and numbness a feeling we felt we could conquer we could beat but we couldn't it took over our lives like Rome did to Europe and just like Rome it came crumbling down.
Glancing out the dusty window,
I see the mist slowly fall,
I look into the mirror hanging on my wall,
I inspect myself thoroughly finding things to blame,
I pick and prod and tear apart my body’s external frame,
Tiptoeing past my shame,
Where once again,
I start to question if I’m worthy
To eat that extra slice,
To role the dice
To tell me if I’d ever pull off “curvy.”
Smiles watch me now;
Why do all girls seem to think they're ugly? Overweight? Not good enough? Even the girls who are the "populars," and seem like they have it all together - they might not. Teenage girls are worried about their looks and how people view them.
I guess you can say we all have two personalities:
The one during the day,
If we asked if we are happy,
Indian Princess
is the same as American Princess
What is American?
North America
South America
No one controls where they are born
I fist fought a girl named Ana,A battle to the death-And when she pushed me to the groundShe knocked me out of breath.She pulled out my hair in pieces,She bruised my fragile bones,
I saw a little girl sitting on a bench
Crying because she was hurt.
No visible scars but on the inside
She felt like she had no worth.
She felt she was different, bore an ugly visage
Growing. That's a scary thing to do.
We don't realize that every day we change, little nuances in the way we move or speak.
The way we cross the street.
The Night arrived room,
The flame lit up the glistening blade.
Her towel fell from her body,
on the ground it laid.
A drop of moisture from her hair,
curved her upwards chest.
I am convinced thatThese are the days
i will remember lookingback and forth
between glass,asking
what does TruthFeel like?
“Mirror, mirror on my wall
Who is fairest of them all?
I know it not to be me
With how I look, how could it be?
I am not thin or sweet or smart.
I do not look like a piece of art.
What’s on your mind? Is it a person? Someone you wish you knew? A mime, trying to find the right words to express its inner being. What’s on your mind? The beauty of the sea? Wonder how deep it can be? The moon? Glistening in the sky?
She'd love to say she's confident but she's not.
"Hey you're smart!"
She doesn't get that alot.
She wants to say she's powerful, but she wont.
She thinks she's beautiful, but no one else thinks so.
I step on the scale
Feel the glass beneath my feet
One hundred and ten pounds
That's still too much for me
I'm trying so hard to fight this
And the battle is not yet lost
You tell me to raise my hand when I know the answer.
I have several answers for the things you want me to know. I know where Belgium is. I know why CO2 is a greenhouse gas. I know who the fifth president was.
Digging deep down inside,
There's no place to ride,
I feel a since of emptiness,
that sometimes I can not hide,
Who cares about my up bringing,
I surley am not suprised,
Remember that day you felt you could never compare
That feeling that life just couldn't be fair
Remember the tears that flooded your eyes
That feeling that life is a pile of lies
I want my baby to grow up knowing that all people are beautiful.
That the girls on the movie screens are figments of the mind
of an evil mind saying, "This is what you should be.
This is what you should strive to become."
The bones they scream in volumes that grow
I hear them begging to show
They want to press pass the barriers
They want me to learn “no”
It scares me as much as it thrills me
To take it all in and see
Growing up, I was toldthat all of me was wrong.A waist too big, breasts too small.Much too tall and far too wide.My parents encourageda hatred of my body.Told what not to eat.
I found the devil,
not in hell, but in
the infinite space
between my body and
the mirror.
Someplace there is shredding
A soft black rabbit in a wooden house
A boy and his hair grown out to his toes
A teacher too sad to keep her ribs in place
There’s gravel in my throat or something
I have never known beautiful.
First the flash of a crooked smile,
Then the wire rimmed glasses.
A long, straight nose,
The sickening, overwhelming desire to be thin.
There’s a bitch in my brain
she’s filled with lemon juice
and black tar
There’s a bitch in my brain
I didn’t see her
filled with fragments of broken mirrors
and
rotten fruit
I live inside my own head
where there is a garden
and no door
“you let the garden wilt & rot”
“I wanted to,” I said
Doll lips upon the petals
trying to breathe life back into the garden.
I don’t stand next to the statue
of my failure
of my epitome
my identical
and my reciprocal.
She reminds me of all my short comings
fawn like legs kick.
I’ve always wanted to be a fawn
Sometimes words whisper and sometimes they scream
Some people grow in castles that gleam
Some of us start much smaller than most
Some of us learn that words leave a ghost
the mirror reflects
my image
i see all flaws
no light
am i really like this
is this what
others see?
the Girl with the Red Hair, the scowled lips the Pretentious curl,The sun's grace, but as fierce as snake venom.Tongue made of butterfly wings and unspoken dreams. I watch from afar,
Suck it in suck it out.
What are you trying to do, pass out?
Not something you wish to be?
Take heavy thoughts in wisely.
It is hard to watch when it's hard to breath.
Will you stop going weak, don't deceive.
A pasted on smile, stretched over bleached white teeth
Perfect skin, clean and bright
Perfect body, toned, tanned, and fit
Perfect hair, straighted and dyed
THESE are robot girls, ripped from glossy pages.
I live inside my own head
where there is a garden
and no door
“you let the garden wilt & rot”
“I wanted to,” I said
Doll lips upon the petals
trying to breathe life back into the garden.
when you look at me what you see
darskin ,brown eyes and sandy brown hair\
do see a big smile, with dark lips
someone thats not that tall
but stand so tall and proud
all the time
She plays with her hair like always,
not even a nervous habit,
just an everyday habit
since she's always nervous.
They told her
Not to cry-
As if tears were anything more than
A lifeless bit of memory-
And sent her away.
Eight years later,
The sun still rose and
Her heart still beat to the same
Skin deep I'm blond,
so I must be dumb,
but my mind whirls faster than most.
Skin deep I wear skirts,
so I'm a crazy conservative,
but I'm quite liberal.
Skin deep I'm not skinny,
If women are not bound by their waistlines,
Then why do girls’ eyes droop at the sight of scales?
More like blooming tulips than heady wines,
A grim reflection
of skin and bones
Tearing her apart
with self-hatred
Magazines
covered with beauty
She only wishes
she could be like them
The mirror
tells her lies
Compliment me and I will smile.
I will even thank you for your kindness.
Though I do not see these good looks that you speak of,
when I, myself, look in the mirror.
I can barely stand to look.
Camera, cameras, flash. Click, Click, snap. The people all stare but it’s my job not to care.
She tells me I’m pretty, he tells me I’m fine. But it’s always there, in the back of my mind.
I had zits.
I have zits.
We all do, it just comes with being a teenager. And just like zits, that awful “I’m not beautiful” feeling also comes with being a teenager.
Under-weight
In a top heavy competition,
We look to you,
Dear surgeon.
Please.
Fix our awkward bods
Into mirrored perfection
Of a catalog
Model
And say to us finally,
To clear my mind for the aura of a focussed being..
To put aside self inflicted insercurties brought on by societies images of perfection,
Indulgence, gluttony, wild binges
can set the tone for a desolate day.
The simple act of eating- unholy in my mind.
Carbohydrates to be allocated, portions to be measured, sugars to be circumvented
As she danced for her audience of one, beads of sweat dropped from her hair.-I danced for him, like I never had before.
She stared in the mirror wanting moreMore of what she lostThe world was mocking herCracks formed on the glass of her skinShe ran from the image and fellBetrayed by her body holding her down
Everyone around me speaks casually
Of diets and calories
And bad metabolisms
I will sit
And keep my mouth shut
And bite back tears
As images of perfection
We wish upon a shooting star, just to change who we are
Gaze among the stars so bright, just so we can see the light
I don’t know much about the world, economy, politics and what not
I didn’t know about slavery or racism at all for that matter
I didn’t know about Martin Luther King’s dream and how the conquest for Civil Rights
Every day is spent imprisoned in my own body
I try to change, but nobody ever sees me
Wishing things would go my way, but
knowing they never will
I would like to welcome you to my hell
And it is with this that I am thrust
into the reality of the world
the world of blue eyes,
blonde hair
beige skin
where
being anything bigger than a 4 (god forbid)
is casually categorized as "fat"
I need your love.
Why don’t you love me?
Is it because I’m hateful?
I need your love.
Why don’t you love me?
Is it because I’m fat?
A bully is someone who uses
Insults, violence, fear, or manipulation
To get what the bully wants
Or just to put down those around them.
You see a pretty face
I see a beautiful soul
You see a smile on her face
I see scars on her heart
You think she is happy, but you do not see beyond that
She hides behind the blue sky
Reach that limit
Watch the birds fly above in complete aw
Take the time to move yourself the way the man above planned you to move
Just Take That Time!
The sound of my heart beats in rage...
Boom-Boom, Boom-Boom
My Fist clinch in Anger...
Boom-Boom, Boom-Boom
The sight of him makes me crawl into my inner shell...
Where were you?
Dressed ready to leave,
Black skirt and black leggings,
I'm dressed for him, I want him to see me,
I'm wearing a sliver necklace and small sliver earrings,
I'm ready to impress you, not deceive you
That she is me
Her hair glistening in the sunlight
Making red and gold out of the brown
Her legs white as clouds
Becoming the shade that fits her perfectly
Her stretch marks splayed on inner thighs
Right here I laid with unknown expectations, my mind was shield from brutality soon to be revealed
In these moments of chaos, my purpose openly appealed, the awakening of inner birth so ready to be outwardly lived
College is a place where everyone wants to be.
But its not where everyone can see
Books, Fees, tution.
I hold my breath and keep wishing
A miracle, a star or something
Mirrors and mind contort what I see,
Skinny and thin is what I must be;
86 pounds just isn’t enough,
Starving myself is going to be tough.
Why am I hurting myself?
Mental damage feels worse than physical damage
And I keep going at it.
I beat myself up everyday.
‘Why didn’t I do that?’
‘Why did I react that way?’
Take care,
Here, take mine
I could afford to misplace it for the now.
Tick tock,
Youth is slipping over mind and through matter
Evaporating and subliming to form the stars on your palm
Innocent.
Such a connotation,
as if there is only
innocent
and
guilty.
Guilty of what?
Of love?
Of curiosity?
Of experience?
Does it matter that I have
been loved before you?
It is cold here,
but my throat burns with anguish and self-hatred.
My body failed more than it was appreciated.
A beautiful, red ribbon holds me to the ground.
Unyielding as the door
Take notice of my tears as they beat the bathroom floor
I open my mouth but no sound comes out
Transparent and free moving like the wind blowing by
Sometimes I feel the need to peel myself like an orange. To strip myself of skin and society.
I.
Her face has traces
Of dots she can’t erase,
Her image dissatisfies her
So much that she
Smirks at her own
Reflection.
II.
Do this, do that
I walk these halls wondering what will become of me
Who am I and what was I meant for
My peers look up to me, but say horrible things
Put me on the outside of the so-called circle
They say that the grass is always greener on the other side,
But let me tell you that is a lie, because the grass is always greener where it's watered.
One beautiful woman with a twisted soul, is losing herself by playing her role
She yearns for perfection when looking in glass. She dances in darkness to please the mass
See that girl sitting over there?
Rumor has it that in the ninth grade
she and a senior boy with a movie poster face and a Hollister body
went at it in the bushes at Sarah Something-Or-Other's 18th birthday party
I look at the mirror
and see a face I so hate to see.
Take the tape, measure 'bout my waist
Compare the scale at my feet.
170, it says, so I will change it.
Today I dressed in all
pink
because I made the mistake
of leaning in close
to the mirror.
I SAW my enlarged
extremities,
and the forced eruption
What I wanted was a life normal to every other
I fell victim to the mirror, the rest just makes me shutter
I quit making friends, and made my body crumble
Every meal was a war, magazines made me stumble
Crawling out of her cracked shell of skin, she is
writhing against the body that gives her life.
Too tight! Too tight! she shrieks, suffocating
in her prison and dreaming of bursting free -
When I was born,
the doctor gave me a length
and a weight
and these numbers
said I was healthy.
So he sent me
into the world.
Now I am seventeen
with a length and a weight,
I have found you in this small room, neatly tucked away in the closet so no one can see you.
Never have I seen a body tremble so rapidly. Much like the movements of a leaf when it takes off in its autumn wind.
I often wish I was a bird so away from my problems I could fly
Or maybe a turtle so I could climb inside my shell and die.
I could be a tree in the breeze so green and carefree.
Isn’t it the funniest thing of how we look at ourselves?
When perfection isn’t perfection
Pretty isn’t what we perceive as pretty
It’s what every one else sees
Everyone’s opinion seems to dominate our own.
Like an Eskimo, I wear many layers
I am kept hidden away
Safe from discovery or attack
Each layer represents insecurity
I put on more layers
I want to stay hidden
Unnoticed
Staring into the mirror,
a sob escapes from my lips.
A monster glares back at me,
eyes daunting,
laughing at such pain.
Seeing a distorted image,
one of disgust and fat.
Skin clinging to bone,
Fat
Ugly
Gay
Retard
Words heard
Words felt
Things the mirror reflects back,
aren't always the truth.
Ugly.
The mirror calls me Ugly, Ugly, Ugly.
Beautiful, he says.
So Beautiful.
Tonight, Babe? Today? He says.
No, I say. No.
Pretty, he says. Just pretty.
Your grimaces, painful half glimpses,
Bring sorrow to every fragile piece of me.
If I should shatter, I’d cut your skin.
Make you remember you’re only human.
You used to smile at me years ago,
In my world
Yes, look at me.
It’s not all hugs and giggles or a candy sea
In my world,
There won’t be a rainbow or a pot of gold
I’m a bit more complex.
Let me show you a piece of my soul
I catch myself
Glancing in the mirror
Looking at the image before me
Unsatisfied
With how crooked my teeth are
With the way my stomach hangs over my pants
With the acne on my face
Unsatisfied
I wish that I didn’t have to tell you how beautiful your body is.
I wish that the world would shout about the beauty in the map of your skin.
The freckles, stretch marks, bumps and scars
His hollow black eyes whisper lethal,
but he sure knows how to weave grace into a dull ribcage.
His secrets of elegance deter one from the uncertainties of existence.
I'm beautiful and overweight.
I have a lazy eye that'll never change.
My feet are huge and my teeth are wrong.
But all these faults have made me strong.
I don't have a healthy relationship with food.
I know I don't.
Sometimes I don't eat.
Sometimes I eat too much.
But either way,
I hate myself for it.
Dazed and aloof, I twirled a strand attempting to appear like I had an ounce of care
Until I realized how much I despised having to pry my hand from this nappy, untamed hair
Is it wrong that I just hate so many of my parts
Chuckles in a quiet room
Broke silence
And pushed her further down.
Harassment starts way too soon
From small lips
Of middle schoolers’ mouths.
All because the thickness of her hips
They toss a careless word like a grenade
And watch as it explodes,
Tearing me apart on the inside
Sometimes I let my soul become like a desert land,
building up on every side castles made with sand.
I try to hide behind these walls of bitterness and shame,
selfishness and hurt and pride grow like a hungry flame.
"My body is my temple"
If we're going to use that metaphor
It is a temple in ruins
A temple weathered by wind and rain
It is a temple with no soul
A temple with no hope
She can’t remember when it all started,
The day she became insecure.
She used to be so confident,
The one they all adored.
She started looking around at all the other girls,
Comparing herself to them.
I eat for the wellbeing of my body
For my blood pressure
And my heart palpitations
And my hyperinsulinemia (whatever that means).
I eat for the wellbeing of my body
For my teeth
And my bones
Dying Uniqueness: The Ill-Favored Girl
I feel like dying
She feels like crying
There's a spot on your face
Above the bridge of your nose
That is the place where the most
Awesome eyebrow hair grows
When we are born
As children we are given lasting names,
And as we learn
We strive to prove ourselves by gaining fame.
How should a name make one feel?
You'll never fit in;
You'll never be one of us.
Put your hand down,
You're not that smart.
You confuse the senses --
Your exterior hard; your skin soft.
Your face harsh; your voice smooth.
I look in the mirror
I hate what I see
The person I’m looking at
Can surely not be me?
When did I become this?
I’ve lost track of time
My lips are painted red
Those eyes can’t be mine
