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Johnny Amadeo Feb 2016
Nowadays, we learn that size is everything

We learn not to believe in the comforting words of our peers,

We learn, thinner you are, the more you're worth.

It seems that we've become archeologists, because all we want to see are bones.

You are only valuable if we can see your bones.

And now, we see these kids who suffer in silence, who intentionally skip their meals, who take fingers to their throat, or go to the store to look for skinny pills and laxatives

It isn't something these kids can just stop,  it becomes part of them

It went from an experience to a habit.

From a habit to an addiction.
From an addiction and now a condition

A year later those same  kids are going to treatment for heart disease, ulcers, and eating disorders. They'll go to the dentist for their tooth enamel that no longer even exists

But how did they let it get this far?
How did WE let it get this far?

They begged and begged but little did they know how much they were really losing besides weight.

They have lost their time, their dignity, their self worth, their identities, and possibly their lives.

It wasn't their fault, they just wanted to be pretty

This should not be the cost of beauty.
Ever.
Johnny Amadeo Feb 2016
I feel like I can't speak
I want to just yell, shout, and scream
But I can't

I want to be productive
Play the piano and just exhale something inspired and creative
But I can't

I have a desire to feel anything else
To smile and laugh sounds terrific
But I can't

Because I am a prisoner to my depression
It has chained me to this bed
As much as I want to get up, the shackles just chafe my skin

My skin has become so dry I just want some type of moisture
Longing for the sweet hydration of relief
The relief of joy

When will this end?
I want to be release
But I can't find the key
Johnny Amadeo Feb 2016
What do you see?
The white mounds over the trees and over the ground, the night skye, and a friend watching my own intimate experience with Mother Earth

What do you hear?
The wind as is runs through the trees and the hum of the generator that sits behind me

What do you smell?
The smoke from the cigarettes that I turned to for comfort

What do I taste?
The chill from the snow and the bitter taste of tobacco that somewhat reminds me of bad coffee

And now, what do I feel?*
The tiny crystals that greet my face with an arctic hug, the gusts that push against me

And finally,
I feel bliss

— The End —