I was overwhelmed by the enthusiastic response this poem received when I posted it last month.  As it seemed to resonate with the current prevailing mood, I figured I'd try a quick spoken word video to go with it.  

Thank you again to everyone who commented on, liked, added and reposted the written version.

https://youtu.be/wGxRvuMWCig

Credit for filming and editing goes to Cornelius Something of Manufacturing Content  
manufacturingcontent.co.uk

Goliath intention
Glitters within reach on
Grecian hallowed ground; the
Girl forged by sweat and chalk
Greets the beam with pristine
Gainer flip, ready to
Grasp the world with her feat.

Have you considered being a *** worker?
You have a body.
I know you never sleep there,
spend less time breathing than associating with your own ribcage.
You're an actress
no script, just a character summary.

Limp, age 12, non-verbal marionette.
Snaps her strings when forced to dance.
Clings to the ceiling tiles, like the shadows she hallucinates.
Let's the puppet fall numb under strangers.
Ragdoll to be used for kindling.

When you play your part
You'll inherit enough money to afford a studio apartment
in Washington, or Las Vegas; anywhere with men paid large enough salary to afford your vacant body,
three phone plans,
a hotel room for you to stay awake in
Listening to dull thuds against your wrongfully warm corpse
Invited hoping the stinging could form tendons
adhere together like rubber bands
Snap you back into your skin.
You cling helpless to the ceiling tiles
Watch the ragdoll make mistakes.

"Have you considered being a *** worker?"
A homeless woman asked me,
*"Unoccupied bodies should start charging rent.
Let a man who can afford it pay for utilities.
You might be homeless
but you won't be wasted space".

tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
drop your pen and drink your inks
stop your words from polluting
the clean slate minds of the youth
let them memorize the ancient rules
This world can't read what you're writing
Arrange a funeral and bury your thinking
Make it quick and be silent
Don't let them know that you're different
You can write? Good for you.
Now go and hide, or else they'll come here too.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
How dare you write
against the tides
about your views
about the lies
about the news
and prostitutes
and ****** abuse?
This world is cruel,
don't overthrow
the rule of men
who can only write
tap-tap* about women rights,
tap-tap and the social issues,
tap-tap and the silent taboos,
tap-tap  and the rich and the poor,
tap-tap and about the schools
which are producing  
brain-washed fools.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
Don't you know? They heard you too
Run for your life, they're chasing you
To erase your words
and silence your voice
To suffocate you
In your own mind
tap-tap, tap-tap
You're still standing here, asking me why?*
Well, you're a threat
to what they possess
the power above all
the power to play god
to decide how we'll live
and where and why
and decide how we are going die.
You're still too young, you haven't seen
How they hide behind the walls
of their own fragile masculinity
and show their strength to scare you away
Ironic how it reflects their own image.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
Now here they are, calling you names
with ***** meanings that they have made
They're pulling you down,
dragging you around,
making sure you'll never make a sound.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap,tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
I know
I know
Oh, I know
How hard it is
to suffer all this
a punishment
of their own ****** sins
It makes me wonder
if they even will
punish the angels
on the last day
for writing
down
their *****
*****
mistakes.

The world is my audience,
I am on stage,
No emotions left,
Just a puppet in a cage.
Reaching out,
Waiting for a hand,
The only one they give me,
Is clap and stand.
They try to break me,
Waiting for it to end.
But they cannot break,
What only bends.

Good morning all, this morning i awoke
and i wanted to say something.
I got dressed in fibers made in who knows where,
traveled on a train made of who knows what,
to speak to you fine people probably thinking
"Who the hell is this!?"
but i wanted to say something.
You see, i'm not the brightest kid in the club,
the sharpest neither-
can't make a universe with my words nor build a story with my soul.
i don't have that talent but
i wanted to say something.

There is no greater moment
than the moment just gone.
These words, fleeting like grains of sand from my mouth
i want them to take root in your hearts and build a thousand sandcastles, so i can proudly say i made a beach out of the intangible
and no amount of sea salty hatred can force it to
perish.
i wanted to say something. something you wouldn't forget and
something i wouldn't regret.

I wanted to say something.
so, good morning everyone
what kind of story shall i tell?

Fire rising in my cheeks
Fanned by insignificance
The work I do is never known
Since I'm not on stage to dance.

To the boys who like girls with eating disorders.

1. Be unafraid to call her beautiful. Feel no hesitation when articulating the grace in her intricacies. The delicacy she wields when flicking back her hair. The shape her semblance set in as she sleeps. The way… she holds a fork.
Even as you call her beautiful  you may experience pangs of guilt. Acknowledge that despite your appreciation for her formation you do not want her to be like this forever. Watch as polite small talk and casual compliments get swallowed up by half full plates and half empty stomachs. Watch her try to chew and words you feed.

2. If you make if to boyfriend status. Her disease may begin to look like the ex partner she’s still hung up over. Watch as she quotes all his favorite things he use to tell her. Do not tell me, I look like I’m getting better I can’t look like getting better. She may look like the embodiment of the phrase “old habits die hard”. But remember… Mother taught you patience and forgiveness. When someone abuses you, you may be vocal about it or you may repress it but you do not forget, and boy... she has some scars. Across every angular bone protruding where a body use to be. In every atrophied muscle where disease did once grip and seek to claim something as it’s own. In every mirror. In darker shop windows where that display mannequins sport the latest illness and in every look you give her. There is no vaccination for this victimization. It will take time.

3... If her condition has left her anxious...

Left her white in the face like porcelain plates serving a future that tastes like insecurity.

If her condition has left her hopeless. Left her thinking that a full stomach means an empty future.
If her condition has left her broken, in any sense of the word, he is not without fixture.
She was a woman before she was a victim. She was a person before she was a patient. She is still a woman, she is still a person. She has a destination outside of disorder. She has dreams that could be bigger than these demons.

And 4… and this is not is not for the boys who like girls with eating disorders, this is for the boys who love!
4. Do you think she is worth it? What can you outweigh?.. Can you make her smile, can you... fill her?