The media has taught us as girls
That skinny is beautiful.
That the more your hips stick out
The more the boys will like you.
It has taught girls to hate their curves
And body positivity has turned
Into a rivalry.
Girls who are prettier than me
Tell me they hate me because I'm skinny.
As if my flat tummy
Is the only thing that makes me pretty.
No one compliments my eyes
Or my smile it's all my weight.
And then songs come out saying
Things like "**** those skinny *******"
And girls hate me more.
I want an *** and curves.
I always have.
In high school boys called me paper
Flat on both sides.
'Cause boys like more ***** to hold, right?
Yet the media still holds skinny girls on a pedestal
And beautiful girls still tell me
They want to look like me.
When all I want is to look like them.
Beauty should not be a competition.

Alas! YOU have arrived
To soak up my words
May you drink them in
Delight in them
For they were penned for YOU
I know not your name
Nor will I see your face
But, you were on my mind when I wrote them

I knew you would come one day

And be touched by these few words
Not yesterday, not tomorrow, instead today
How was I to know the time
The timing I leave to you

I am just glad you came

Its never too late to proceed
For the words in my poems
Are meant for just the right moment
Filling a need
Easing some pain
Perhaps they turn your frown upside down

That is why ...

I continue to write

And ...

YOU continue to read

I’ve been losing sleep,
The pain runs too deep.
Wind whistles through the trees
And it blows right through me.
It’s like I am human sieve
Who has given all he can give.
I surrendered my physicality
And am battered by reality.

I’m over playing silly games
Of guessing people’s names
And hoping they really are
Who they claim they are.
Now I prefer to stay alone
Not waiting here for the phone
Or visitors at my front door.
I’m not into that any more.

Feeling I am invisible
Can become invincible
A force that slams the gate
On any successful fate
Making a hash of all tomorrows;
A progression of personal sorrows.
I need to do something different.
I need to stop being indifferent.

I’ll stop playing supporting roles
In matters that can heal my soul.
I will say yes to a future me
That can exist without tragedy,
Self-ridicule and poisonous doubt.
I’m not sure how, but I will find out
And make for myself a new way
To fill the empty space every day.

Maybe I am writing his story,
or a part of his history.
A scribe of a life revealed to me,
or of things that are meant to be.

Images of places I've never gone,
to the waking eye goes unseen.
Faces of people I've never known,
haunting me in my dreams.

Turn the leaves from page to page,
Count the words one by one,
Make it sweet, make it rhyme
For life is magic in a beautifully written line.

Golden sun on golden hair
The kind of girl you can follow
By the trail of broken hearts
And promises of passion
Fashionable fury
Magnificent monster
Devouring life
Devoted to lust
Desiring love

In my head I saw the cohort
Of lovers, past, present and future
Walking meekly by
Cherishing the whole lot
From first eye contact
To first touch
And even the crush
The smack on the head
That useless feeling of feeling useless

It’s hard not to make the same mistake
Even in a place so mundane
As you set a place like this
Ferociously on fire
Burning and battering
Heat and heart
Mesmerizing mess
Deviously destructing

The girl at the bus station
Promising a journey you’ll regret
And a morning after to forget
Sentimental slur
Like only a fool could feel
Heading in heart first
Ending up endangered
Feelings rearranged
Promises kept

The girl at the bus station
You know she’ll break your heart
And still you get aboard
Because life’s too short
Not to give in to sin
Sensual sacrificing
Dare to wear your heart
On a sleeve
Only to have it thrown away

So she transformed
From the girl at the bus station
Into the girl from that one memory
Of that horrible movie
And that passionate play
Hoping that it all
Proves to be a prequel
Of the story of a lifetime
About a girl at the bus station
And a fool who came to stay