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

you had always
kept your
**** together
when you felt like
falling apart, and i

i want to be brave like
that.

"happy"
As I lay in the puddle of tears on my bed
I feel so alive
My mask has been taken off
It's truly me
The words I speak are so me
Almost too me
There so unclean that hurts my ears

When I wake up from my bed and head out to school
I turn around and grab that "happy" mask right off the shelf
Just hopping no one notices it's a mask
I look so calm
So collected

You could never tell that on the inside are scares so deep
So alive
That I relive them everyday

But when I get home I open up your stories and feel so alive

How can I ever share myself with anyone
When can I trust people to love me for my scares
For my scares make me
But at one point they broke me

So when I close ur book
I take off that mask
Smash it to pieces
I tell myself tomorrow I will be myself

When I get up I make a new mask
A better one
One that can't be broken
One that can hide anything

Maybe one day together we can break it
But for now I'm fine with always being "happy"

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?