We blame society for everything.
We fault magazines for turning innocent teenage girls
Into anorexic beauty queens.
We point fingers at the paper thin actresses on TV screens
For bringing bulimia victims to their knees,
******* down their throat as they cough up that last bit dinner,
Along with the guilt and shame that comes with it.
We blame society, but we are society.
Who wrote those magazines?
Who created the ridiculous standard that you can only fit in
If your bones are showing through your skin?
Hunger is just a feeling; thin is a skill.
Your stomach isn’t growling because you’re starving.
No! It’s applauding you on a job well done,
On another day of nothing but celery sticks and diet coke.
Who cares if all of your hair falls out?
Who cares if you get dizzy every time you stand?
Who cares if the desire to be thin and meet this sick standard of beauty
Is slowly killing you, taking another piece of that innocent teenage girl
And turning her into a skeleton?
We, as a society, don’t care.
The magazines won’t stop printing
Because another high school kid got carried away.
Extreme, even deadly diets are a thing of today,
And yes, yes, they’re here to stay.
Sometimes eating healthy and exercising just aren’t enough.
Desperate times call for desperate measures,
And under this kind of pressure,
It’s hard not to give in.

it can either be
the greatest gift
or the most
painful response.

To the all the guys I have kissed:

My first,

I thought you were sweet
too bad it didn't last

My drunkness,

I don't know who initiated it
perhaps it is better that way

My first boyfriend,

I thought you meant it
but I was the one who felt it.

My mistake,

You were a rebound.
I was payback.

My foolishness,

You leaned in and I felt bad.
Guess guilt is a nasty emotion.

My first love,

You wrote a song I loved to sing,
I wish you never forgot the words.

My payback,

I am sorry I used you,
I cried when I got home.

My sorrow,

I wish you told me you had a girl friend,
so I can break your neck, they way you'd break her heart.