Oct 2014
Skinny. Fat.
Tall. Short.
Quiet. Loud.
Sweet. Evil.
Innocent. Monstrosity.
These preconceived notions of who we ought to be. They’re lies and they are circling my brain, running through my veins.
They tell me immaculacy isn’t the way to be. But if I am caressed just one time, the corner on the street is where I should be.
I am just shy of 100 pounds, my body screams anorexic and you all point and gasp. But a mere one hundred twenty five makes me obese.
They tell me to be myself and exclaim that I shall not be judged. I wear my tall socks, skirts, beanies, sneakers; the things I picked out but then I have no style, I am just an ugly freak.
I keep my lips sealed in class, I am afraid of the judgemental looks and comments I may get. I keep to myself but to them I am a loner, just a freak. But if I talk too much, If I speak a subtly sentence I am annoying and highly obnoxious.
I am told I do not need make up but when I don’t wear any people say I look different. More tired like, practically sickly. If I do wear makeup I look like a cake face, fake but in an odd way slightly more beautiful. More respectful.
Societies one you can not please. If you listen or you don’t, you are always doing something wrong. Do you. Who cares about the rest. You’ll never be who they want you to be.
Tall. Short.
Quiet. Loud.
Sweet. Evil.
Innocent. Monstrosity.
These preconceived notions of who we ought to be. They’re lies and they are circling my brain, running through my veins.
They tell me immaculacy isn’t the way to be. But if I am caressed just one time, the corner on the street is where I should be.
I am just shy of 100 pounds, my body screams anorexic and you all point and gasp. But a mere one hundred twenty five makes me obese.
They tell me to be myself and exclaim that I shall not be judged. I wear my tall socks, skirts, beanies, sneakers; the things I picked out but then I have no style, I am just an ugly freak.
I keep my lips sealed in class, I am afraid of the judgemental looks and comments I may get. I keep to myself but to them I am a loner, just a freak. But if I talk too much, If I speak a subtly sentence I am annoying and highly obnoxious.
I am told I do not need make up but when I don’t wear any people say I look different. More tired like, practically sickly. If I do wear makeup I look like a cake face, fake but in an odd way slightly more beautiful. More respectful.
Societies one you can not please. If you listen or you don’t, you are always doing something wrong. Do you. Who cares about the rest. You’ll never be who they want you to be.
