I remember your skinny waist
And your skinny lips
With which you had a small smolder
For me to want to kiss.
Your skinny wrist
And skinny thighs
Made you all that much fragile
Than a porcelain doll,
Wanting to be touched.

I made myself believe,
Believe that I was jealous
Of her being with you.

Maybe that wasn't it
I was jealous
But not of her being with you

I envied her for being her.
Pretty girl with the beautiful smile
Thin and smart, something I'll never be.

I guess the truth is,
I envy her for being the girl
I will never be.

Ana is in my brain again
and I'm sorry
to say I'm giving in.
Mia is whispering to me
so sweetly;
Fueling my dreams
to just be skinny.
And today I don't feel strong enough
to decide that I am enough.
Because I feel like too much.
     There's too much of me,
     And I am not enough,
      because I'm not skinny.
Mia is in my head again
allowing me to guiltily binge;
Reminding me
I can purge just as easily.
Urging me, "better hurry."
Run the water
hide the sound....
I feel pretty lost,
And this is what I've found
to cope
with the constant nagging
inside of me.
Ana is in my thoughts today
Reminding me how much I've gained.
And all I've lost- previously.
Encouraging me,
Dissapointedly,
To get down to 115.
I know that I am losing my mind
But maybe along with that,
I'll lose a few pounds.

If I could be the perfect me
I’d be a perfect poet.
My hair would be long and blue
And I wouldn’t need anyone. Not even you.
I’d be a little too skinny
With long, lanky legs.
And freckles. Oh, the freckles i’d have
If I was a perfect me.
My eyes would resemble spring
Clean cut grass.
Eye lashes like the stem of an Allium
And shoulders like a mountain;
cut and pale.
I wouldn’t have you in my veins
And nothing would mean anything.
I wouldn’t need your permission to breathe

Or to just be me.

*(r.e.)

When you first look her in the eyes and admire the way they shine in the moonlight,
look deeper than the iris and drown in her pupil
as it is dark and it is deep, and it is similar to that of the Marianas trench itself.
When you get deep inside her brain, you will see the monsters that man cannot at first glance.
It gets so somber that your heart will get heavy and your palms will sweat,
you will repeatedly want to turn and you will want to run away,
but don’t.
Because these thoughts are not demons after you,
they are attacking her relentlessly and while she does not need a hero,
a helping hand won’t hurt.
She is not helpless, but she is also not safe
and she is afraid, and she is hiding from them.
So when she flinches away from your touch,
be gentle.
Like the breeze she feels when she opens her window on a late August night to feel something other than the stillness of her room
and to remind herself she is not just imagining her existence.
Remember that she has been through her share of nightmares like you, and while some may not be as bad, they are incredibly real to her.
Remember that she needs someone to love just as much as you.
Do not think this is a demand you love her when she has no one else,
just open your mind and your heart because that skinny girl with tired eyes is one of the most beautiful you’ll ever meet
and you will remember her for years to come.
Please, be gentle for she is fragile.
She is cracked, but has been dropped and broken so many times, the pain is not as bad,
the hurt is not such a surprise.
Do not let her be surprised if you stay when she expects you to go, because she will,
she will assume, she will get weak and she will picture you leaving when she needs you most
or she will try to push you away,
but remember her smile and remember her face because every actress is told they have so much to love but that does not mean they are all in bliss.
You’re the polish on her scuffed up shoes,
you’re the sun peeking through her blinds on a cool summer morning,
you’re the reminder that it will all be okay,
So long as you don’t run.
When you meet a girl
with shaky hands and a faint heart,
remember that she can get stronger again.
You are not her crutches, but you are support.
Do not think her life depends on you, because it doesn't.
Never put that on yourself.
You are not a superhero, but you can be her helping hand
If you remember
that it’s alright to stay.

I’m scared, too.

My waist is thin,
my wrists are thinner.
Bones protrude everywhere
my ribs & my hips & my hands
The number on the scale is too low
the number of things I hate about myself too high
I am wasting away
and I don't know how much
I care

Because the definition of beauty isn't something as simple as your face
It's your very soul and mind  
The way you look at things with such childlike curiosity
Your mind an ocean of untapped creativity  
Your heart forever expanding, fueled by love and joy
And yet you still look in the mirror every single day, hating the person you've become
So you twist yourself into something ugly and fake
Don't tell me nothing's wrong when I can see you slowly dying inside and letting society  chain you up and break you down  Until all you can hear is; "Skinny, pretty, skinny, pretty, skinny, pretty,-"
You see the size of those jeans. Doubting, criticizing. Esteem thin as paper.  
Posting a million pictures to get likes from complete strangers. Wanting, craving, needing people to tell you that you’re beautiful. Looking for anyone else’s opinion but your own.
Because you refuse to look into that ****** mirror and even associate beauty with that person staring back at you.  
You judge your self-worth by weather or not a man finds you attractive.
Because that’s the only thing that matter right?
The definition of beauty that others set fourth for you.
A path that you don’t dare stray from.
It wasn't always like this
Being young, being free, meant being you
Laughing as hard as you wanted to
Smiling with your teeth  
And wearing that cute dress you've always loved.  
Getting older, getting bullied, getting shamed
Your laugh was obnoxious  
Teeth were just a bit crooked  
That dress, not as cute anymore
We shouldn't be wasting our lives trying to impress people
Don't look to others to tell you you're beautiful  
Look inside of yourself
And if you don't see anything worth wild
You're not looking hard enough
You judge yourself by looks alone. Not factoring in who you are as an individual.  
Whether you want to believe it or not you're beautiful, inside and out
I think it's about ****** time you stop listening to someone else's definition of beauty
And start looking for your own

Never tall enough.
Weight too low.
Brown eyes brown hair.
No blue or green.
No blonde or red.
Face of a child.
Pixie hair as thin as air.
Of legal age mistaken for a sweet sixteen.
Of female gender thought to be a young boy.
Cup size sorry didn't make the C.
Jeans don't go past 0.
"You don't know what it's like to be overweight, you don't what it's like to be judged for not looking perfect."
But I do.
"My God you are so small."
"Cute like a child."
"Excuse the interruption would you like a children's menu?"
"Don't lie how old are you really?"
"Look at your tiny arms!"
"I can wrap my arms around you twice!"
"Men like curvy women"
A daily struggle due to image.
Never looking perfect in people's eyes. Always the little one the ugly one of the group.
Never to be seen as anything more.
Eating too much provocking sickness upon myself simply to gain a pound or two.
Never succeeding.
Simply to make myself a perfect image accepted by society.

Kathia Mariana Landeros

I miss your fingers
intwined
inmine

long
        skinn-y
                     perfect