I was a lost boy,
Who wished upon a star for his prince

You woke me up from my lifeless slumber,
You make me wish for tomorrow,

You turned me into a real boy
You helped me find my heart,

You made me long for more
You brought back my voice

I left my world for you,
You became my world

You were my knight in shiny armor
You unfroze my heart

You tore off my mask
And broke my disguise

You give me strength
And brought me back from the depths of hades

You had my love... But she had yours.

i could tell you you’re beautiful
hell, i have before
a lot of times
and you still don’t believe me
and i don’t know why

but that’s a lie
i know exactly why
because i used to think
i was ugly too

i was an ugly girl
with glasses and nobody
noticed me until i starved myself
down to a double zero because
they all kept bullying me for being fat

and now i’m an ugly boy
but that’s okay
because even dead trees have the
ability to nurture beautiful
life out of their stumps

so no, i will not tell you
that you are beautiful because that
word is used so much and has so many
different definitions of what it is
and isn’t that who is to say what
it really even means anymore

because to me
you are so much more than a pretty face
and kind words

you are the sunrise after a bad night
where i thought i would die
before the sun rose above the tree line again

you are the rain after
a scorching hot day that makes it too
hot to wear my binder

you are the forgiveness
after i tried to leave
and still you stayed
even when i kept on
trying to go

you are the food
that i am still learning not to
be ashamed about eating and enjoying
because weight is just a ****** social
construct like so many other things

you are the calm voice
and steady hands
holding my own shaking ones
when you bring me back
from my anxiety attacks
and promise me it will be okay

you are there
you are here
you are
you are
so much more than beautiful

you are my friend
my confidant
the love blossoming behind my ribs
the scars that wounds become
the pain and happiness and tears

you are so much more
than you think you are

Compared to a lot of things around me.
I come from a different world, a world within their world.
A third world.
I come from struggles
From contentment
Wonky neighbors, communities, and families.

I’m a result of conflicts.
Of trivial desires and strong feelings.
                            Of a moment.

I originate from peaceful sights on Golden Beach
From bustling streets with peculiar smells
Sweltering summers and rain invested winters
I originate from Red, White and Blue.
                     From the lone star.

I am the effect of hard work.
Of a fighter
A single mother.
The repercussion of strict rules.
Respect branded in me
Obedience molds my body.

I am an original stereotype, insanely mindful.
I strive to forge new roads.
I am conventionally unconventional
I walk the unpaved jungle lighting my own way.

No matter where I go
There’s one thing I’ll always for sure know

I come from  a different world.
A world within their world, a third world.

I will  always have arms to return.
A culture that is my own.
A sense of self that is me.

Fat
A word created by the devil to make others feel ugly
Ugly
A word created by the devil to lower self esteem

Our society lets the devil rule it by creating anorexic models
Wearing caked on make up
Telling little girls they need to look like Barbie
That make up will solve all your problems
The biggest lie the devil ever told was convincing girls they look better with make up on

Society tells girls there ugly unless they have the perfect waist
The biggest *****
The best butts
Why so magazines will sell
Why because men only want anorexic fake barbies for wives

Well it's just a bunch of lies by the devil
Believed by the little girls who want barbies
Believed by the girl that u call fat and ugly
The girl u make fun of for her pimples

So they turn to the devil and listen to him and starve themselves for guys who will never care
Cake their face with make up so u will call them pretty one day

But it's all just a bunch of lies
God makes no mistakes
Your beautiful just the way you are

I can see you
Sneaking into the kitchen at midnight
Turning on the light as if
It is the only cure to your problems
Just to waft through
The shelves and shelves of self hatred

I can see you
Hiding behind a baggy t-shirt
That is supposed to be baggier than it actually is

I can see you
Not wanting to get too close to anyone
Because the way that their hands
Traipse over the
Mountains and lumps that are
Your body
Makes you feel all sorts of uncomfortable

I can see you
Because
I am you

I can see how we've lived our entire lives
In fear
Of ourselves

People tell you that "It's just food"
No.

It is a comforting hand when no one is there
It is a way to feel good and bad simultaneously
It is a way to survive

Only it would be a lot easier to survive
If you didn't hate yourself whilst doing it

Right?

“You’re overweight,” he says, tapping his finger against his chart of heights and measurements, thighs too big and fingers too plump. I already know. I nod, and continue nodding, listening to the word echo and then fall onto the ground, bouncing and bounding, restrictions that have surrounded my whole life, my whole curvy figure. If I could be like the girls with the flesh wrapped tight and the bones loose and caving in on one another, I would grab the chance before it had a chance to flutter away from my desperately aching hands. When I look in the mirror, I try to remind myself that flaws are flaws and yet they were made to be beautiful, but I see what I see and what I see makes me want to *****, makes me want to close my eyes, makes me want to pull and tug and rip until there is nothing left but a pile of rotting decay. I am stuck, I am back on the playground in sixth grade where the boys would taunt and laugh, point and gasp, as I tried to pretend I looked like everyone else, every other small, petite little girl who didn’t have to worry about these types of things. My clothes don’t fit, I’ve gone through seven pairs of jeans in the last month alone, I look back at the pictures when I thought I was fat, but I wasn’t, I was fine then, why did I think that? I lay in bed beside the man I’m supposed to be with, fully clothed and pushing his hands away from my hips, away from my lips, don’t touch me then if you can’t handle all that I have to give. I’m not her, and she never wished to be me.