They were photo-shopped
Every inch of fat cropped
Cropped till there was nothing but bones
Cropped till society labelled them as beautiful
Cropped till they had boys falling at their feet
Cropped till they
no longer
needed
to be
cropped.

They had starved themselves
They were 'fat free'
They were
hollow
and

They were
empty.

i look up at the sky
in search for stars
but instead,
i see darkness.

darkness has concealed
all the bright spots.
they use to give me hope,
but now they're gone.

if only
i could take away the darkness
and bottle it up.
so that i can see stars
up and shining again.

Today I'm going to stop
This ridiculous destructive thing
I've been doing it to myself
For five. miserable. years.
I talk so much about
How I hate to be controlled
but this is controlling me
I'm wasting my life
and this is my fresh start
I don't want to paint over
the same old canvas
I've already painted black
I've gone down this road before
and I could have been a killer
I don't want to be her anymore
The girl no one could help
and just watched her waste away before them
I'm no longer going to count the numbers
and measure and weigh
and cry and hate
I'M DONE
it can't control me anymore
she told me she was worried about me
now I know it's too far
what do I care anyway about all this?
It won't be very easy
but I'm not going to do this to myself anymore
I'm taking this canvas and BURNING IT
I'm starting fresh
I'm done with this
I'm finished
I need to be strong enough
for her
I won't become a statistic
under the earth in a wooden box
with only a block of cement
to prove I ever existed
because pretty doesn't have a size
and for her
I'm going to stop
Five years
is long enough

I’m so sick of feeling alone.
I’m sick of this wanting, craving feeling towards love.
i want someone to give me the world,
without me asking for it.
i want someone to read me like the back of their hand,
to understand my thoughts and accept my past.
i just need someone
to need me.

i crave someone to finally open up their arms wide and let me inside,
to hold me and to never let go until the world has crumbled and fallen
apart and we have nothing left to stand on but each others feet,
and even then i’m not quite sure i would want them to let me go.
i want someone to finally acknowledge me and my differences
and fall in love with the way my eyes wrinkle in the corners when i laugh.
i want someone to sneak over late at night and talk about the stars and how majestic the color of trees look when a storm is approaching.
i want,
i crave,
i need,
someone
to need me.

Skin pale as white roses
laid upon a sleeping corpse.

Eyes of the sky
and an unknown part of the universe,
forcing one to get lost in thought-
lost in their depth and memories.

Lips, oh snow white
a thousand expressions in every twitch

So frail,
the wind teases the thought of pulling you away
-which it could-
but it lets you stay so we can see your beauty.

In the mirror
what do you see
a goddess unlike me
or anyone, really.

Light steps through the halls
small tight frame striking and bold
a smile so sweet and so genuine
and raven hair that floats like silk.

You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.
Better than any magazine.
You haunt my dreams
and tantalize my days-
truly,
there is no one more beautiful than you.

Why do I have to be so perceptive?
To those being deceptive.
It burns through my
third eye's retina
emerita
of no nebula
aware of
everything.
Failing me never.
I guess I can thank God
for having made me
so clever.

maybe it was just bad timing
maybe 10 years from now,
we'll meet again in one of the most cliché ways.
maybe I'll be sitting on one end of a coffee shop
and you'll be sitting at the other
and I'll be drinking coffee
and you'll be drinking anything that keeps your eyes open.
I'll see you but pretend I didn't,
I'll take the napkin that was once sitting under my coffee and place it in front of me,
I won't write down my number.
I'll write about how my coffee matches your eyes,
dark brown coffee sweetened with a little too much sugar.
I'll write about the last time I saw you,
and how you said you'd never grow any ****** hair
but now you have stubbles resembling cinnamon bun crumbs swept across your face.
Maybe, just maybe, I'll look up from my napkin, and see you looking at me.
Maybe I'll see you looking at me the way Gatsby looked at Daisy.
Or maybe you won't look at me at all.
Maybe I'll just crumple up this napkin and throw it away.
(But I kind of hope I meet you at the garbage can, seeing you throw away a crumpled coffee shop napkin with scribbles all over the back.)