It says don’t eat breed
But eat some carrot sticks instead
don’t eat this and don’t eat that
what can I eat, and not get fat,
they point out lots of food to choose
to make you lose, and lose, and lose
But I love to eat, and I love to cook,
and All I’ve lost, is m diet book.

Because when I was 4, my mom told me that I could not like blue because it was a 'boy' colour.  
Because when I was 5, the kids at kindergarten made fun of me for my 'boy' hairstyle.
Because when I was 6, dad refused to buy me a toy car because it is a 'boy' toy. He got me a Barbie doll. 'Good for girls,' he said.
Because when I was 7, my teacher scolded my for my 'boy' handwriting.
Because when I was 8,after a bad fall, my mom lamented that I would never be able to wear a skirt, instead of asking if I was ok.
Because when I was 9 I watched as my relatives mocked my male cousin for cooking. "Leave it to the women" they said.
Because when I was 10, I was told that I ran like a girl. 'But I am a girl', I said. They laughed at my innocence.
Because when I was 11, I was warned my my mother that I would be too fat to be loved. As though his love had to be spread all over my fats.
Because when I was 12, puberty started and the acne set in. It was my mom's worst nightmare.
Because when I was 13, my mom reemphasised that I was too fat to be loved. I felt like ****.
Because when I was 14, I starved myself so that I would be beautiful. I did look like a 'proper girl', my parents agreed.
Because when I was 15, the stress of impending national exams got to me and my hair started to fall out. My mom prayed for my soul, and my scalp.
Because when I was 16, in the car 37 minutes ago. My mom scolded me for my acne scars, saying that I was too scarred to ever get a job, or a husband. Most importantly a husband.
Because gender roles affect us all, male or female. Stop labelling people.

He lived under his mother roof, and

every morning he gobbled down her food

until his stomach was sickly full.

He smelled like **** and cheese

sweating bits of fish and chips,

light years ago he used to be the biggest tease.

He spent most of the time on the couch

day in, day out.

he morphed into such a grouch.

Gravity was strong with his mass,

his huge *** made a huge stamp

day after day watching the same crap.

Countless hours watching TV,  

reality shows, **** and glee

*******, his only ecstasy.

There is a woman
Who loves me like air
She gave me life and she continues doing so
One time she told me to please not smoke anymore
But she has found every way of making sure I know
(Bribe, beg and banter, bring me to tears)
Consistent and persistently
That she isn’t happy with how much of me there is
My flesh offends and worries her
She says that she fears for my health
And she wants me to experience my full potential of youthful beauty
She says she thinks I’m beautiful but others may not
Never considering that the opinion I care about most
Is my own
Concern for my outside more than the inner that she can’t see
My lungs that struggle to breathe
My brain that just tries to function
My afflictions inherited from her
She says she only cares for my happiness and well being
In her eyes taking up less space would solve
All of the problems I experience in life
My anxiety disorder
My insecurities I have had as long as I have been self-aware
My emotional detachment and trouble committing
My concerns about being a good person and a valuable friend

Do you think me so superficial, that my happiness rides on my presentation?
Mother please, if you could read my mind
I love myself for who I am
This flesh is matter, and it can change and shift
It is merely my vessel in this world
I wish you could care about the person I am becoming
As much as what that person looks like

I feel myself
crumple and crease
like the folds of a
crushed paper bag.

My skin weighs on me
as I pinch the thickness
of my thighs and sides.

Bruises forming where
skin should be thin,
but has been memorized
by fingers that shake
whenever I cry.

I am not made of silk.

I eat. I love eating. I have no problem with it, and I really enjoy the explosion of different flavors in my mouth. It's an interesting experience and I truly like all kinds of dishes.
The problem starts when the very last mouthful is gone. That's when the guilt comes into scene. I suddenly feel horribly for eating so much and start to get dizzy. And that's only the tip of the iceberg.
This whole matter goes back to primary school. I was a lot fatter than I am nowadays but I still cringe every time someone calls anybody else fat. I was bullied. I was that one fat, nerdy girl with glasses, braces and two-size-bigger clothes. I was full of joy till fourth grade. I was a little girl becoming a pre-teen, and I wanted boys to think I was pretty. I started to notice those stares and glances that the boys in my class shot me. They were not checking-you-out looks. They were laughing at me. So I started feeling bad about myself. I had to get nice clothes. If that's what it took to be accepted, I was gonna spend every cent of my savings in clothes shops. Of course, I had never cared about fashion before, and when I went shopping for the first time I was really disappointed. I would find a really nice shirt and immediately fall in love with it. I would see it on a mannequin and it would look stunning. And then, excited, I would go and try it on. Imagine the look on my face when I saw how the shirt fit me. It didn't look the same on me than it did on the other girls. I was horrified. I then realized that it was gonna take a lot more than a shopping therapy to be liked. I started obsessing over calories. I didn't eat half as much as I had been eating before. I practically  starved myself to death every day, and I kept track of all of it in a tiny notebook I took everywhere. I couldn't bring myself to enjoy eating because it was too painful. Everyday I watched as my friends took pizza for lunch as I chewed my lettuce. All the cruel things the boys told me hurt me even more than anything. My mom worried about me and she said I was perfect. Of course I was, in her eyes. But I wasn't happy with my body. I did a long diet that lasted for three long years. In seventh grade I started to eat a bit more and that's when I hit puberty. I grew taller and slimmer, and my body curved-up.
I was still uncomfortable with myself. Boys started noticing me, and I was happy about it, bit I wanted more. I started to work out and until now, three years later and in high school, I'm still not able to like my physical form. I've lost a lot of weigh, but my mental image is similar to that ten-year-old  girl that discovered that nobody liked her because she was fat.
I look in the mirror and see nothing but imperfections. I put on make-up and fancy clothing only to find that the real problem is **inside my head.

He has x-ray vision,
but he's as blind as a bat.
He sees straight to my heart,
but cannot see my fat.

He's as strong as an ox,
but as gentle as can be.
He's **** in his shorts,
and in a suit-a sight to see!

He's my super-hero,
even though he can't  fly;
He doesn't drive a Bat-Mobile,
or freeze time with his eye.

But the things that he 'can' do
far outweigh the things he can't;
and they give the word "Super-Hero"
a whole new slant!

Why did you eat that?
Don't you know
You're already fat?

Everyone is staring,
At the way your skin
Is swelled and sagging.

No one wants you,
With all that extra cargo
You look 200 pounds.

Put the food down
And go for a run --
You look disgusting.

Why did you eat that?
Don't you know
You're already fat?

I complained I'm hungry,
I'm hungry,
Stomach involunteerly crying out,
I said I'm hungry,
He said, how
He looked me up and down,
It's impossible,
The way you eat pre dinner,
Then dinner,
Then snack, then after snack,
You're not hungry,
The tears didn't have a chance to fall,
I was out of the house,
Lost in this hell we call life.