She' s seven years old
She's too young to worry about her thighs touching as she walks
too young to know the what she wants is to be less
less in size, becoming less of herself
She's ten years old
She's too young to feel her stomach knocking against her empty rib cage as if someone was knocking and never getting a reply
She's too young to refrain from cartwheels on the beach, too young to no longer leave foot steps
She's too young to already have a monster that follows her around
She's 13 years old
She's too young to inhale that first cigarette because she hears it will help her not eat as much
Too young to understand that her lungs are on fire, next to a lot of things that have burned long ago
Too old to go to mom's bed at night when she has another nightmare about taunts they give her at school
She's 18 years old
She's too old to deal with the ******** anymore
Too fed up with the ideal image that burned in her brain like she was branded by it
She wears the names she has been called her entire life like a crown
for she is too young to know what beauty is, but too old to be imprinted by it