the mirror plays favorites
she twiddles the beauty queen’s golden hair
she puckers up so lipstick can be placed on her full lips
her hair the perfect length to play with
not dry, but smooth and so healthy

she picks the prom queen’s silky dress with dignity
it’s perfect for her malnourished body
it lays and sits so beautifully
the mirror sees her and appreciates the craft she created
grins, and puts silver and gold expensive earrings on her ears

but when i approach,
she turns her face in disgust
throws an outfit at me; ripped jeans and a tacky t-shirt
she says i’m too fat and that i should keep my legs far apart so people don’t notice how weird i look
she grimaces at me and i walk away bashfully
‘never letting her look at me again’
i say
but
i always come back for her critical opinion
and i accept it
that’s exactly what i am
not beautiful, a fat failure

i became skinny, but i still hated myself
i worked my **** off trying to “lose weight”
i was always skinny
what was i on?
i watched my slim figure in the mirror
and
cried
i was never good enough
i still don’t think i am
no—
i will never be enough
cause i think i’m ugly despite one or two people calling me pretty
my clothes don’t fit and i panic
i told my friend i needed to lose weight
and she said i was super skinny
i don’t know why
it shocked me
cause the body dysmorphia is vicious
and she is my biggest bully
my legs are muscular
i walk all day, run at night
i swear
i’m not lying about that
yes
i pace around my room
cause apparently that’ll shed pounds
heck, i’m one hundred and twenty pounds
yes—
i said it
it’s mostly muscle
but i think i’m fat
perhaps, i haven’t thought about my weight or my legs for a long while
but yesterday i saw my stomach in the mirror
and i can’t stop thinking about that
i’m gonna start doing ab exercises
so i can be toned
and i know i’ll be happy
by those results
i’m still ugly though
i am so sorry for the self deprivation
but it’s come the time when i accept that i will never be beautiful
and i don’t know
perhaps that’s perfectly valid

Thigh gaps, no fat flabs.
Bronzed goddess, half naked bodice,
We all buy into this masquerade
But let me tell you something, pretty fades

Society warps media to show us an unachievable dream,
One we will chase down till the day we run out of steam,
And then what?
They fabricate lies, telling us that if we have a gap between our thighs and pretty blue eyes,
Which will get the attention of guys and that’s the ultimate prize, right?

Diet suppressing pills that make you feel filled but are you fulfilled?
Running till blisters cover your heels,
Skipping those meals,
How did that make you feel?
Are you happy?
No
Because that’s the trick.
You’ll scroll social media and just as quick,
You don’t like what you see anymore,
It’ll make you sick.
You have to be skinny but hey wait we also like em thick,
So which do you pick?

But lets not forget the ones who scream ‘body posi’
And then say ‘oooh she’s too skinny’
‘That cant be healthy’
‘Gain 20 pounds, eat a Big Mac’
‘Guys don’t like girls with a small rack’
Is that a fact?
‘You need some meat on your bones’
Yeah well my body is my home, and I don’t remember inviting you in
You see, body shaming is a two way street,
Don’t go telling her she needs to eat,
Or her bones need some meat,
Stop fighting each other its this ideal were trying to beat

And then there’s those of us in the middle.
You’re not quite skinny but you’re not quite thick so you’re not allowed to complain,
‘You don’t know the pain’.
They call you skinny,
So you say you’re a size 12,
They say ‘that cant be’
They don’t believe me.
Just because I know how to dress my body to look a certain way
Does not mean that I don’t resent what I see at the end of the day.

I am sick of wanting to look like somebody else.

I am sick of crying every night in bed, and wanting to be dead
and to that voice in my head..
*******!
Stop telling me that no one will love me
Because I have a tummy
Because that’s not true.

And when I get a flat stomach then what?
What my hips are too wide? ***** too small?
**** too flat? Do you like anything at all?

No matter what I do there will always be something wrong with me in your eyes.
Ill never be good enough for you,
No matter how hard I try, how much I cry,
That wont change and nether will I.
You’ve made me wish I had the discipline to starve myself so you know what?
Go **** yourself

Comparison is the thief of joy, and I’m a serial burglar.

The Media shows you pretty and what a shame
Because beauty is not the same.
There are no standards or aims.
It’s not about how you look,
It’s about how you took
The gift of life
And you breathe and you blink
And you create and you think.
Beauty is laughing out loud.
It is being proud
Of yourself and everyone else.
Beauty is the smell outside after rain,
Picking yourself up after all that pain,
It’s keeping calm when you feel like you’re going insane.
It’s forgive and forget
No regrets,
Beauty is living.
Beauty is how you feel and breathe
Because you’re alive.
It’s determination, perseverance because you strive,
To be the best, because you expect
Nothing less,
From yourself.

The more you try to adhere to what society wants you to look the more you’ll feel like crap,
It’s a trap,
Now I’m not saying the key to happiness will just fall into your lap,
It’s hard. I know.
It takes time, work and energy,
But for the possibility,
That you like what you see
To be happy?
Isn’t it worth it?
My body is a work of art.
Tattoos and piercings line my skin,
I haven’t loved my body
But I can begin.

Society profits off of your self-hate,
Don’t take the bait,
It’s not too late,
Speak to yourself as you would your best mate.
When I die, my body is not my legacy.
Mourners will not say ‘lovely girl, shame about the belly’
‘Ya I agree,
A smart girl but not that pretty’
Nobody’s going to say
‘I loved her but her flat chest
Was not the best’
As they lay me to rest
The world will not come to a stop
Because of my muffin top
And I refuse to be a prop
In this production.
Killing myself to get a slim waist, big ****,
Big *****, small gut
And for what?
To perpetuate the message that you have to look like this too?
No, I refuse
If not for me, then for you.

I like my body
I don’t love it….. yet anyway
But I will one day
And that’s ok.
Find the charm in every mole, stretch mark and roll,
And don’t lose yourself
To the infinite scroll.
It’s not easy, I don’t have a simple solution,
But
Loving yourself is the greatest revolution

Maybe I'm just not meant to be small
or light
Maybe I'll forever exist outside of
what i have been taught is "beautiful"
Maybe some day I'll accept this
not today, maybe not for a while, but
I look forward to that day.

My skin and bones have seen better days,
but I am not asking for your sympathy.
I block out the noise, still aware of the whispers.
Eyebrows creased like my stretch marks,
I want to forget what it's like to have a body.
Instead, see me for my spine
because although it is bent,
it is not broken.
It's just another thing to mend.
Cracked, twisted, and stepped on.
Justifying my hate with forgiveness,
my mirror is used to the repitition.
Finding solace in substances,
I was beautiful before the world told me different.
If only I would've seen that
before the harm was dealt.
Oh, to be faceless
in a room of familiar faces.