she told me you cried over me
and i was surprised

i hate that

Do I want you?
I know you want me,
But do I want you to?

You're gorgeous and fun
Whilst I'm silent
Ready to turn away and run

Has it been too long?
Am I too far gone?
Because I can't hold on,
To this neverending sad song

I’m too smart to fail
I’m too good to mess up
I’m too pretty to be insecure
I’m too talented to be doubtful
I’m too perfect to be anxious
I’m too loved to hate myself

I wish this was the truth.

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

Lately, I’ve been feeling a little light headed. No, I’m okay. I don’t have a condition or anything. I just feel like my world is slowly collapsing. Every time I try to fix things and somehow getting good, the universe will do a huge clap back and smack me in the face.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a little useless. Just when I thought I’m doing an excellent job at work, it came to a point that they have to let me go because of personal issues and choices. “You’re good but...” There’s always a but. But should be my middle name in other lifetime. It suits me well.

Lately, I’ve been feeling very insecure. My girlfriend loves me, I know that. But sometimes I feel like she can’t express so much of a feeling like how she used to express it to her ex-girlfriend. When we started dating, I stalked my girlfriend for fun and I saw posts and letters and all that kind of crap how she loves her and how every single second is important when talking to her. She even right the call details in a ******* notebook with all the hearts and smileys and all cheesiness. Me, on the other hand, being mad at for being demanding for asking more phone calls. (she’s working milessss away, btw).

Lately, I’ve been feeling a little betrayed. My mother, who is supposed to keep me safe and warm based on the world’s rule, messed with my life. She placed me in a very difficult position and now people are hunting me away. My cousins, who are my very best friends as well, turned their backs on me because of what my mother did. They even back stab me during dinners that I’m not around. Referring to me as “she’s like her mom”

Lately, I’ve been feeling… Lost. I have nobody to turn to. I have nothing to do. I always tell myself to “Focus on what I can control. But now… I don’t have control about anything anymore.

I can’t stand looking in the mirror.
Just wanting to slice away the imperfections.
Want to rip my veins to never feel again.
To succumb to the nothingness that I am.
Be something for someone in the afterlife.
Enough leftover pain to make them cry.
For being the spitting image of what I lack.
You should know, scrolling through your phone, seeing the prettiest beings with their legs spread wide open and fingers in their mouth drooling for your eyes to see them.

and I just think:
****, I just want to be enough for you.

You looked at me, absent-minded. Comparing with eyes made for judgment. It's your right.

It's too bad you don't see the hurt, the words carved into me. The ones that go "she's skinnier" or "she's prettier, you know". I try and consult, whispering "mirror mirror on the wall" but it just won't look at me.

You did it without thinking. Took the liberty to stare me up and down, and when I asked you why you were surprised. You weren't doing it on purpose. I was just a visual obstacle you could look over and judge.

Maybe you lacked malice, but I still saw the wish for better in your eyes. You didn't need to put it into words. I heard it all. Felt the need for better, as I covered up, so you no longer had to be disappointed.

You checked them out and looked at me after as if surprised you'd accepted this version of a body for so long.

anger is felt in the stomach
the core of our bodies.

it eats your heart
and feeds your body fire.

our rose colored world becomes red hot
and we see flames atop our enemies heads.

our words bite off heads
and cut through spears,
we seethe with danger.

we feel ultimate control
and power.
power to tear down the others.
power to eat them alive.
power to destroy the sun,
and become it with our burning heart
that turned to ash when we forgot our human innocence,
that we gave up to let out anger drive us.

however
forget not that the control and power
is an illusion.
a lie to keep yourself in check
when you're the most insecure person in the room.
let your anger humble you.

anger is felt in the core,
but is driven by the soul
and stems from betrayal.