There’s a difference between calling a girl fit and hot and calling her pretty and beautiful
When you call me beautiful I imagine you noticing the way my hair falls from the clip over time
I imagine you noticing the way my giggle sounds and the way my smile lights you up
When you call me pretty I imagine you noticing the complexities of my eyes, the way my freckles come out in the sun and and depth of my dimples
Pretty is noticing the way my legs are sculpted when I walk ahead of you and the way my nose flares when I genuinely laugh

Fit is the body two ***** and a waist
A pair of lips you can only imagine what they do
Hot is the low cut top exposing my cleavage and my ability to open my legs for you
Fit is a one night stand word or the words of a man in a club hoping that that night you are feeling especially vulnerable and insecure

Beautiful is the text she gets when she lies in bed at 11pm asking if she wants to go on a walk
And although she professes to him excuses when she walks out the door of a lack of make up and three jumpers to keep out the cold and her insecurities encapsulated by her self destructive smile and her hair pushed behind her ear
You lift her face and examine that untouched smile
The rawness of her appearance and the purity of her eyes
That is beautiful
And you call it so

When fit is the way a body looks and how much makeup can look like none
Pretty is the way she smiles when she sees you and the way she feels looked upon.

The climbing aspects of mould corrupted walls
Engraved with hurtful carvings of a lifetime of meaning
A tentative twinkle emerged from your face
Not filled with angel features
Or blessed by the Gods
But an innocent longing for the verbalisation of those unspoken words

But I told your best-friend everything
About me
I worry this is it



Charlie would be happy
Even though he never is
Happy for you
he always is as i examine
The complexity of the raindrops lashing
I wonder where it’s been
I wonder if there’s a world a nirvana where i’ll Know that about you
But I was told by your best-friend first.

If I’m okay why do I cry all the time.
Why do I feel so scared
Why am I terrified to say no
Why do I let them yell

But trust me

Don’t worry about me

I’m okay

my friend said she’s
Quirky
Angsty
And different
She’s not she’s insecure
And I don’t mean any offence bu that statement
But she thinks the chains around her neck make her appeal to her abuser
And the fact that she’s never, really, properly drunk and yet pretends she’s wild and has lives lives she hasn’t
She says “ if you ever need someone to be a crackhead I’m right here”
She’s not
She’s insecure
She has sisters
I have brothers
And although we’re no longer defined by genders I think we are now
She wants to be like her younger sister
But she’s not popular like her
She lacks for charisma
But is sweet and kind
She thinks “cage the elephant” is indie music
And thinks listening to the strokes makes her cool
And that turning of capital letters on her phone somehow makes her “not like other girls”
She’s wrong
I don’t do any of that **** and I don’t pretend to be quirky, angsty, and different
And all the boys prefer me.
And yet I’m insecure
She should go back to fan-girling over Shakespeare
And writing books and poetry for fun
You’re not
Quirky
Angsty
And different you’re just insecure
Ok yeah good. ?  !
Got it perf.
Vibes. Cool,,, lel!’v

Does my skirt provoke you?
Are you scarred by my top?
Does the length and depth define me,
Could I do a better job?

Am I made by what I wear?
An outfit I compose
The paint I layer on my face
The cut of my clothes.

You say I have no self control,
No power of restraint,
You place me in a little box
A student with a male teacher or peer.
It’s her fault he could not.

Hold himself away from her
Chain himself to the chair
labelling her his object
Instead of averting his stare

I’m not defined by cloth it’s purpose is warmth
Nor the body underneath
It is me and my intelligence

Does my existence provoke you
Fill you with disgust
Because my ability to choose
Is simply not good enough

For the standards you set me
The body I must have,
To be considered ‘pretty’
To be considered ‘bad’

My skirt can not be to short
My shirt not to deep
Because a low neckline
Will prevent my ability to speak

Does my happiness provoke you
My confidence in who I am
Because it’s taken a long time
To love myself

My body is incredible
Not only do the subtle curves from inch to inch make me feel desired
Or the little waist my mothers middle age friends comment on
Or the fragile battle scars of a lifetime spent trying.

But the internal haven of complex systems
Each of which so cleverly placed.
A life source
I am my mother and fathers child
A founding force of a long full love
A miracle
Trillions of lives I may have lived
Millions of faces I would never had seen
Thousands of places I longed to go.

My body is my protector
Sheltering me from my worst instincts
To carry me through youth with agility
And to eventually carry another
But that is my choice

You cannot put me or my body in a box
You cannot tell me how to live
Or choose
Throw away your pointless cries of justification
I can’t hear you
I don’t want to hear you.
Why should a government official tell me how to be, who to carry, what to do.
My body is a vessel not yet ready for carry.

I need to carry me first
Take it a step at a time
I don’t love myself yet
It takes time
Nor do I love my body
Appreciation is the word. For now.
From the intricate designs of the birth mark on my leg
To the S shape scar on my thigh
The unanswered scar on my cheek and the moles that cover my arms.

They are mine and no one else’s
They can stay as I choose
As can it
Not he or she or they but it
Because it’s my choice

I am not an object
You do not own me

You do not own women

I’m sorry I told you the things that I said I wouldn’t  say
Because I trusted you
It took you 20 seconds alone with them to tell them
I said it out of anger
I said it out of fear
I said it because what she did was unacceptable

And so I probably shouldn’t have told you
Should have known better
Because I know that I’m your best friend
But being popular is more important
To you
And what I said was said in anger
And you thought I didn’t know
When I walked into the room and you fell silent
The only word “snake”
Or the person you were on face time to
As I drove past
I know when you’re lying
Don’t call me ignorant

Because I didn’t mention it when you
Called me fat
Or called me dramatic
Or spoke about my biggest secret in front of everyone else
Or ignored me
And stood me up
So many times because fifteen minutes is not enough warning
And I didn’t want to get embarrassed in front of my mother for having such a ****** friend
So I sat alone
In the park at night
And we all know what happens to girls alone in the park at night.

But I didn’t mention it
Because I didn’t want to blame you
She was the irresponsible one
I was just doing my job
Cheering them on
Doing the right thing
Whilst she stared and whispered
All I said was that I “expected better”
And you told her because why the **** not

She’s more popular than me
She’s the centre of attention
She can get anyone on her side
But I must have forgotten I can’t tell you that
Because you’ll tell her
And that **** *****.

It's in the way he smiled at me when we first met
Nothing special about his smile but the chipped tooth
The way those eyes tell a million stories and yet are so kind
He listens
I’ve never had that before
And calls me out on my *******
Because he knows I like to lie

He doesn't put people down for things they enjoy
I’ve never had that before
He respects my passion and lifts me
He treats me like I want to be treated
Because i'm sick of being treated like an ignorant little girl

He's nice to everyone and
I’ve never had that before
Even if he dislikes them he's compassionate and kind
And sees good within the worst

And although his hairs to long
And although his brothers a *****
And although I still feel judged by him sometimes
I’ve never had someone like him before

Safety
Love
Warmth

I’m not afraid to call him whenever
And I was already friends with his friends
He notices things, even before, that no one else does
And is genuinely happy for me

And i've never had that before
Never had the kindness
Never had the unconditional
Never had the best friend
But I guess thats because i've never had him before.

I am a distract yourself from the problem instead of facing things kind of person
I am a ‘the problem’ doesn’t exist unless you think about it person
I am a scared to be alone with their thoughts kind of person
I am the maybe it will just go away kind of person
I am the we can deal with it all another day kind of person
But the lie awake at night not being able to think of anything else kind of person
I am afraid to cry
Afraid to feel
Afraid to tell anyone anything that might make me slightly vulnerable
I can’t procrastinate but I can’t do it right now kind of person
I am the think of all the people you will disappoint kind of person
I am the kind of person where you think about me and realise you actually know nothing about who I am
My secrets
My dreams
My aspirations
I am the don’t tell anyone otherwise you’ll jinx it kind of person
I am the obsessive
I am kind (out loud)
I have emotions that are far to complex to verbalise or comprehend
My weakness is caring
My weakness is not wanting to upset anyone
And I know that sounds like a strength but it internally destroys me when someone says something wrong and I physically can’t open my mouth to verbally respond
And I try my best but its when I’m alone with my thoughts it hurts the most
When I realise there is no podcast, no movie, no Tv show or book to distract me from the inevitable
And you’re probably wondering what the inevitable is
But I don’t know

And that’s what scares me
That’s what keeps me up at night
Maybe a fear of failure
Maybe a build up of all those thoughts I’ve procrastinated thinking about
Maybe all those tears I should probably cry
But I can’t
No because then I’m weak
No because then someone can manipulate me
No because then I show that I’m not strong 100% of the time.
Even when I’m alone
And I don’t know why because I think people that can cry are brave I see their vulnerability as a strength because only the toughest don’t care what people think of them even at their weakest.
Plus crying is beautiful
And feeling is too
Because sadness hurts but happiness is ecstasy
And you can’t truly feel one without feeling the other
I am the fix your problems yourself kind of person
I am the don’t be a liability kind of person
I am the don’t weigh people down with your thoughts kind of person  
I have no idea but every idea of who I am as a person

Maybe when I’m older it will hurt a little less
The pain you receive from feeling
When I’m happy I’m sad because
I realise the happiness won’t last forever

And I always feel bad because happiness is so subjective
I’m sad because I can’t see my friends
Some kids are sad because they’re starving

I don’t cry anymore
Because if I start crying I know I’ll never stop
Sad, right?

I’ve got him
But he’s not enough sometimes
To distract me
It’s an ever-going saga.
I can never quit

My sadness started when I was 12
On a bridge
I didn't know him
He was Middle aged
Grabbed me
Groped me
12
My first 'Adult Problem'