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daryll agatha Dec 2019
how does it feel
to gaze upon a mirror and
then declare that you are not disgusted
with what you see—
your flat chest that amplifies
your heartbeats— lub dub, lub dub.
your short stature ready to be encased
in arms that would be afraid to even think
of you walking away.
your crooked teeth that would be perfect
to bite the belly of the beast.
or your short hair that your past lovers
had disapproved of,
saying that you look better with your hair longer.
it is unbearable to not be
a conventional type of symmetry,
to have jagged edges
deemed to be no longer worth saving.
how does it feel to gaze upon a mirror
and finally decide that
you have a body worth embracing.
how does it feel to be so devoted,
so in love with your own temple
that you kiss it at every given opportunity?

—12:50AM
Eileen H Oct 2019
you're too skinny, girl
I want to be just like you

you're not healthy,
girl
lay me down
right next to you

broken and free is a fine line.
(everybody's pretty
in the right light)
think I could be pretty
unhealthy                       too
Becca Lansman Jul 2018
My body and mind are at war
two beings occupying the same skin

the diverged desire firing bullets into the heart
creating a cacophony of chaos within me

One--
******* the jar of peanut butter
hidden by the blanket of dark sky
hugging the fridge like a newborn
caressing the chocolate bar wrapper

Two--
crouched over
crying in the shower
pinching my skin until bright pink, hot
with anger

trying to resurrect myself into someone more holy
trying to starve
out the monster within

only to find myself back on the bathroom tile singing gospel songs into the toilet bowl.

a cyclical strom
that will not stop raging

like a perverted lover
always, somehow
dragging you back home.
zero Jun 2018
Diamond celled hands, with
freckles sieved like stars; splattered
on the canvas like paint.
Under them lay soft knuckled
mountains, sleeping.
Clair De Lune hums under the supernova
of red; bleeding like bitten peaches on
summer days. A thick green river
moves to the motion of my thumb,
next to the birthmark I got for my birthday.
Traveling up to wash board arms. Angry red
eyebrows expressionless; Passion. Pain. Suicide.
Adults and children alike stare as I tug down sleeves.
Peaches bleed less than I at the receiving end
of bad news.
Refreshing moments like when they notice the
supernova on your knuckle, pawing at it like
a greedy kitten before they look up,
their eyes still intertwined with yours.
Caramel eyes like liquid taffy; sweet
like honey.
Plump lips like peaches; ready to bite.
I was born with the supernova on my hand,
I smiled when you asked me.

-Dilon.xo
Varshini Sep 2017
I look at myself in the mirror.
I **** my stomach in.
I turn and walk away, only to turn around.
Today isn't a great day.

I think of changing my clothes.
I think of changing my clothes, again.
I decide I don't have time to do it.
(I don't think about the inner thoughts pervading my head).

I get called cute once.
I get called cute twice.
I have a skip in my step.
Hey, this isn't so bad, is it?

Some days, I give in to the peer pressure in my head.
Some days, I dress in baggy clothes to try and hide my figure.
But, some days, some very rare days,
I love the way I look.
Context: I needed to wear something not work-related to work, and I thought I looked awful, but I ****** it up due to lack of time. However, a lot of people called me cute and R, a co worker, doubled back to tell me that I looked nice and asked me if there was an occasion.

I'm okay with the way I look, but some day I have bad days, and this made me feel better <3.
Naunie Baltzell Oct 2015
150: "I've never had a fat girlfriend" your now ex-boyfriend explains when questioned about the reason why he said the two of you just won't work. He tells you that "he thinks you're cute, but would be much cuter if you lost a few pounds". His words echo in your brain until eventually insults are the only thing you can force yourself to swallow.

120: Everyone is congratulating you on your extraordinary weight loss, they all want to know your secrets. You don't tell them that every night you're on your knees worshipping the toilet bowl. That the only chocolate you've tasted in months is the chalky, sweetness of the laxatives that you take like a daily vitamin. That you don't allow yourself food until the emptiness inside you threatens to steal your consciousness. Instead, you smile and say "must be good genes".

90: You get into a fight with your mother after she tries to force you to eat dinner with your family. You ate yesterday, this will throw off all the goals you've been striving towards. You no longer know how to survive if you're not destroying yourself in the process.

90: You run into your ex boyfriend at the local Walmart with his new girlfriend. She's heavier than you are, but her eyes still shine like lighthouses, he hasn't gotten to her yet. You try to telepathically tell her to run, to leave while she's still whole, but you know the message gets lost on its way. So you settle for a smile, and a compliment to the figure she still has.

120: It's so hard to live in a society where perfection is unattainable but at the same time required... However, it's not impossible. You are already in recovery, you've made it through the hardest part. It's so much better to be full of food than full of empty wishes.

150: Your new girlfriend whines about how jealous she is of your curves, compares your body to that of an ancient goddess. You hesitantly accept the compliment, still not comfortable with imagining your body as anything other than the curse he made you think it was. Darling, your body is not the curse, your body is the blessing... I'm glad you've finally started treating it as such.

— The End —