Keeping up appearances,
Shutting the dark vibe down.
Keeping up appearances,
Putting on a crown.
Keeping up appearances,
Make a smile out of a frown.

Keeping up appearances,
But quietly you drown.

I feel beautiful
but only when I'm hungry
Only when I can hear my stomach begging me to eat something
Only when I can feel myself losing weight
Only when they say, "you're getting to thin, you're doing great!"
Only when I'm drinking a bottle of water in the span of a minute so that I can be full
Only when I'm starving but I push the plate away.

I feel beautiful
But only when I'm counting calories
Only when I'm running that extra mile to stay slim

I feel beautiful
Until I'm looking down at my thighs and I see that they touch
Until a girl says how curvy I am when I'd just like to be flat and slim
Until I step on the scale and it laughs and says I've gains a few pounds

I feel beautiful
until I look at myself in a fullbody mirror and think, "GROSS"

I feel beautiful
when I haven't eaten for 3 days and no one notices
When I'm popping a rubber band to my wrist saying, "you're not hungry your just bored" over and over again
And my stomach replys, "I'm dying, why are you doing this, feed me"

I feel beautiful
Until the girl next to me is thinner than I am
Until daddy tells me I'm getting fat
Until I hear the boys in the distance say that they'd never, ever, ever date big girl

I feel beautiful
But only when I'm dying of starvation
Only when I'm literally empty on the inside

I felt beautiful
Until I realized that fat is an insult
And i wondered why
Do we not glide the same why?
Do our stretch marks make us inelegant?
Are we unladylike because we eat?

I feel beautiful until I don't anymore
Until beauty is too much in the eye of the beholder
Until I am not allowed to be the beholder
Until beauty is a category of waist size double zero

I feel beautiful
Because I'm allowed to
Because the number on the scale does not define Me
Because I Define me

The sad thing about writing your poems on the internet
Is that you can't hear my tone
Like... Seriously, I would have so many likes if you could just hear the drama in my voice
If you feel my emotion through my sound waves

The sad thing about NOT writing your poems on the Internet
Is that without this, I have no voice
The emotion felt when reading my poem
Is not something I don't portray In the physical world
...Not that anyone would care if I did

I cry and they call my tears fake and unnecessary
I smile and they say my happiness is undeserved and childish

In the end online poetry is my voice
though it deprives me of my tone

When the pain gets to real
I take a deep breath and inhale your sweet scent
I listen to the memory of your saying my name.

When the pain is too hard to bear
I picture the day that the universe no longer separates us

When I see again
I'll ask why you didn't give me a chance to say goodbye
"You just left me to fend for myself", I'll say.
" you were all I had, the light at the end of my tunnel".
And you'll just smile, in awe of how big I've grown
In awe of how much you've missed me too.

But...
When the pain how's away, so do you.
So does, your scent
Your voice
The feel of your skin
And when the pain barges in,
I remember how quickly you barged out

It seems to me that I can never get a say in Anything
I was conceived
I was born
And I was raised with out my permission

I was in agonizing pain
Couldn't eat
Couldn't sleep
Could barely even breath
With out my permission

I hit puberty
Felt happy feelings
Felt sad feelings
With out my permission

I was thrown into reality
A "young woman"
No one to love me
With out my permission

So when you ask me what I wanna be...
When you tell me the sky is the limit and you will be my plane
I just have one follow up question
With out my permission is it really my decision?

I see beauty in every step I make,
this world has robbed us of the right,
to see with my own god given gift of sight.
no trust in my reality
only laugh at whats on the computer's screen,
I see beauty in every cobble, in every drunken wobble,
I watch the street lights glow pass through the trees that shelter below
I see the homemade art hanging on your mantle, through the window left ajar so that winters sounds may visit,
and I see the world spinning on its axis, the Pre-printed clouds scrolling past me like a news feed,

green grass and the smell of mud,  the wind disturbs trees that shed leaves as if they where a grand lady, shedding tears to some offensive gesture

the beauty in life is not in screens,
the beauty does not hide behind great outings
the beauty does not rest, it does not settle, it is neither here nor their,

the beauty of life is around us, at every moment,
in every moment.
it just takes time to learn to see