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  Jun 2015 aynsley
Lianna Walters
Beauty.
The standard goal.
Society kills me.
They tell you to “be yourself, you’re beautiful”
Judge you for it,
Then encourage you to do it again.
Who are they to decide?
In fact, who decided the status quo,
What determines true beauty?
They say everyone’s beautiful in their own way,
But that’s just the appetizer.
The main course is the “fact” that everyone’s different,.
And in order to achieve the standard level of “perfect”,
“Buy this item! It’ll make you more perfect, I swear!”
“Wear these clothes, it’ll complement the parts of your body we’ve defined as
‘Attractive’!”
“Do these workouts, it’ll give you a flatter stomach, tighter abs, a sexier beach body!”
The fact that they took our weak spot,
Perfection
And dangled the idea,
The possibility in front of us
To sell their products
To keep us coming back, to make money
Because, let’s be real, money’s everything.
They convince us that we can achieve something that doesn't exist,
But we want it to,
We hope for it,
Because….what?
Looks are everything?
No.
In 80 years, we’ll all look old and weird, so what’s the point?
Look good everyday,
Hope someone finds you attractive,
Potentially fall in “love” with somebody who only desires your looks?
If that’s your goal, ***, you've got your priorities mixed up
Life’s not gonna care whether you’re
Attractive,
Ugly,
Skinny,
Thick,
Short,
Tall,
Smart,
Stupi­d,
Or the greatest person alive.
It’s gonna knock you down no matter what,
And in 120 years, we’ll all be dead anyway.
Why waste your time hoping to accomplish a false reality,
So you can live your years in luxury,
Rather than just being thankful and happy?
Don’t spend your time trying to get to what you don’t even want,
But have been programmed to accept.
Re-program yourself.
***** the system.
WE DECIDE WHAT THE STANDARD FOR BEAUTY IS. I SAY **** IT, WHY IS THERE A STANDARD AT ALL?
  Jun 2015 aynsley
bc
One
I hate myself.
Two
I'm scared to sleep at night because whenever I close my eyes it's as if the ruthless words of hatred and disgust that you throw at me relentlessly replay over and over in my head as if it was a broken record perched on the top of a dusty shelf that isn't within a reachable distance.
Three*
I don't know who I am anymore. I lost her somewhere within this sea of sadness I plunged myself into.
Four
Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless.* These are the words that taunt me everyday and latch onto me like a bloodthirsty leech that just found a new piece of flesh to feed off of.
Five
Whenever somebody tells me to be who I am and that they won't judge. I laugh. I laugh because being who I am is just a distant memory. I cant be who I am because I lost when I skipped my first meal. I lost who I was when I learned what it felt like to genuinely hate myself. I lost myself when I learned how to numb myself so that I feel nothing at all. Now here I am in present time, curled up in a ball of my own self pity, crying out all the feelings I wish I had.
Six
Somedays, I wish I could find the me that loves me, but I can't because the horrid words that you uttered to me stabbed her over and over again relentlessly and when you finally walked away, she stood there bleeding out all the love and trust she used to have.
Seven
I hate telling people how I really feel because they take it as a yearning for attention, not a cry for help. I hate telling people how I feel because they would treat me as if I was a problem and not a human.
Eight
I just wish that someone would paint on me as if I were a blank canvas and turn me into something magnificent because I am tired of continuously painting
myself in hopes that my tear-stained cheeks, lifeless eyes, and pain will turn me into the beautiful girl society expects me to be.
Nine
I just wish I was normal.

-b.c.
First poem I published on here, I hope you like it. -b.c.
  Jun 2015 aynsley
Chelsea Patton
Don't you dare tell  me I am beautiful.
Until you have seen my scars...
That are craved into my body,
and the blood that pours out of my soul..

Don't you dare tell me I am lovely,
until I completely shut you out of my life..
Because I swore to myself,
you are just like the others and you will get sick of me.....

Don't you dare tell me I am flawless,
until you have seen me break down in tears..
I will show you the darkness  that's inside me that's consumes me,
and you will run away form me...

But  if you,
have seen my scars,
my bitterness,
and darkness...
Then I might believe you....
Hope you guys like it
comment
share
thanks guys
  Jun 2015 aynsley
Joliejoliesara
I believe there's secrets hidden amongst our stars.

They're dying to tell us..

You just have to listen...
but listen you must with an open heart
Paradoxical because you can only see the stars but you can always hear your heart, that's where your secrets are hidden..
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