#bodypositive
Hot summer forest, sweat and dawn’s faint light,
My feet in time with sighs of willow trees,
Bare cheeks and skin, dew-glossed and shining bright,
My ******* sway freely, ******* hard in breeze,
Moss meets my wetness—harmonies, soft lies
Nightbirds perform their final song with ease,
While fireflies blink out their last goodbyes,
Alone, I’m cradled close by nature’s sweet surprise,
An ****** of dawn—my body soaring as I rise.
In dappled gold, a turtle halts my stride,
Her ancient fortress shell, a gaze unblinking,
Paused, I’m exposed—no secret folds to hide—
Her slow, wise eyes undress me, softly blinking.
“Old mother,” I sigh, “what are you thinking?”
Does my left breast seek the gentle morning sky?
Do wild curls shame me, or my fantasizing?
Do you see ******* not a perfect doll’s eye?
The forest hushes, breathless, waiting for her reply.
I study flesh—each mile sculps *** and breast,
Do I run for her, or am I just insane?
The rush of blood, feeding animal unrest,
Her body in our bed—my lust, a hurricane.
She’s dawn’s first glow; I’m shadow, bound by chain.
Does this sweat feed her gaze, or pool between thighs?
I pass fat faces, screens glued, cold with disdain—
I’d rather die in wildness, in open skies,
My body, food for forest, feasted by butterflies.
Jul 6, 2025
Jul 6, 2025 at 12:24 PM UTC
I finally mustered the courage,
to wear a blouse a size smaller,
until I saw myself in the mirror,
and I heard a light chuckle
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 6:28 PM UTC
i look down at my feet,
i mean phone.
i look up at the sky,
i mean thighs.
HER beautiful curvaceous thighs are all eye can see
as i compare them to mine,
and i shout-
**** you Instagram,
not this time.
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 11:15 PM UTC
I want to be unapologetic
Yet, I continue to apologize
For every difference that they see
Increases the need to compromise
From what I wear to how I sleep
Or what is deemed a healthy size
From then on, I understood
That I lived only to be described
I apologize again for my differences
Next time, I will improve my disguise
For the sake of your own comfort
I will keep putting aside mine
I look up to their condescending stares
They will never be satisfied
I escape into my solitude
I am not something for you to define
I am tired of advocating for myself
Without the support of family ties
Finding more hate in my own growth
As though I live to be ostracized
My attempts to calm my abnormalities
In order to sooth those who penalize
To make room for all of their expectations
To create another profitable merchandise
They have taught me to pursue
A personality so idealized
While they heavily persuade me
To carve a body to sexualize
Only to be rewarded with a life
Where I am only patronized
Filled with the inequalities
That are completely normalized
I retreat into my inner world
The place where I fanaticize
Of a space where I can breathe
With the encouragement to try
I am not broken, just discouraged
Of those who antagonize
Minorities and their differences
Who then live demoralized
I don't want to be given a role
With a life script to memorize
Or submit myself to a narrative
That can easily be summarized
Do not confide me to a label
Just so you can stigmatized
Those labels are not my name
I deserved to be recognized
I do not wish to be put on a pedestal
As another icon to be advertised
I only wish for your understanding
Just enough to be humanized
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 11:40 PM UTC
For every piece of hair swallowed by the sink,
For every sharp bone in my body that's now gotten rounder
And every flap of my soul I puked on the truth
I now kiss myself.
I kiss myself in the mirror
And merge with the reverse;
Kiss my toes for they tickle the sand,
Kiss my eyes for they twinkle like starlight.
I make love to myself in the mirror.
The world is no longer away from home.
I am my body and I am my soul. I come together: I am whole.
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 4:12 PM UTC
I remember when I was
Self-conscious.
Sure, I still have my struggles-
Little negative thoughts navigate
Through nothingness natively out of
My mouth.
But, sometimes I like to think
I am the greatest.
Sometimes, I like what I do.
Through and through,
I try to keep this thought true,
Take something I learned and
Share it with you.
I feel new,
Just sometimes.
As if I am not who I was back then.
As if depression never took me,
And if social anxiety
Was a construct of pseudoscience.
Sometimes I feel stronger,
As if I can take on the world;
By my own hero,
And save the ones I love.
Sometimes, I feel the sunshine
And the weight lift from my shoulder.
The older
I get, the longer it stays.
I am getting better,
Or maybe I was never
Ill in the first place.
I can do things
Other cannot,
But also learn from those same people.
I can grow as me-
Stop the burning and cutting
And constant lonely late night crying.
I am free to be balanced
And to be me
And happy.
Sometimes, just sometimes,
I get a glimpse of the time if those moments
Became my everytime.
And then I smile, and breathe
Just breathe.
And continue to think of myself
As broken, but still beautiful
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 3:50 PM UTC
My life has changed immensely ever since my childhood. Even though I always see positivity in change due to the lessons I’ve learned, I feel as though some changes I have made are ones I’m not necessarily proud of. Body image never seemed to be important to me.
When I was a toddler, I felt completely confident about myself because I use to dress up and show off with the stuff that I wore. As I got older, I realized that being “beautiful” wasn’t what I was because in a past relationship I was with someone who made me feel like I was not good enough. He had so many expectations about what I should be and that just wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t comfortable because I tried to be “beautiful” for someone else instead of myself. The more I thought I wasn’t “beautiful”, the more I felt very insecure about myself . In society today, “beautiful” is defined as women who have a good figure, perfect teeth, perfect everything and so on.
I’ve always caught myself comparing myself to other girls and I wouldn’t understand why. I’ve put myself down because I thought I wasn’t good enough or attractive enough, but what I want for others to get out from this is. No matter how you look, no matter what you wear, and no matter what you weigh. You’ll always be beautiful in your own way. Everybody should love who they are as they are because a part of being unique is just being different. Instead of looking exactly like everyone else. The reason why I want everybody to feel good about themselves is so they won’t struggle each and everyday with worrying about how they may look. Nobody should ever live a life full of worry or stress just because they don’t look the way society expects them to look.
What I want others to think about is rather you’re a boy or girl, Why can’t you completely accept yourself as you are? What is stopping you from loving yourself? I feel as though it’s hard for someone to completely accept their self as they are because they are used to being told how they should look, being on social media, and looking at images of certain people. What is stopping someone from loving their self is when they point out the things they don’t like about themselves, and can’t seem to take their mind completely off of it. Though, at the end of the day I feel that you shouldn’t be beautiful for anybody else but yourself.
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
I had a talk with myself in the shower
It was a long overdue conversation
The suds of the shampoo blurred my vision
And they seemed to cloud my thoughts too
If he came back would you be strong?
Would you hold your hard-earned place?
Or would you break down like a house of cards?
Shattering your emotions like a China vase?
I would be the independent girl I am getting to know
The girl I see clearer in the mirror everyday
The one that would tell him to leave me alone and go his own way
He had his chance now I'm taken
By someone who loves me for everything
Who sees my flaws and embraces them
Not notices and demeans them
I am taken by myself.
A better long awaited self.
I turned the water off and stepped out,
Cleansed in more ways than one.
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
if i was an artist,
i would have painted myself a set of beautiful eyes,
a glowing skin,
hair of a princess,
an hourglass looking body,
a pretty version of me.
if i was an artist,
i would have drawn myself with plumper lips,
a pair of longer legs,
a better version of what i saw in the magazines
but i am not,
so i will just settle with
this
with who i am
instead of who i wanted to be
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 10:36 AM UTC
You are an oasis of rivers
in a barren desert,
The last signs of life,
The remains of a comet
Evaporated in the sun.
You are shattered cords
And spilled ink,
Gloriously painted across broken wires
Split at the seams,
But still breathing.
You are breathing.
So learn to love it.
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 6:55 PM UTC
I am facing yet another war, and I know you are too.
So please know,
This battle is worth fighting for you.
I rather be loved by the outcasted,
Then to be hated by the royalty.
But I will always be a princess suited in metal armor.
I promise to hold your hand and clense you of your wounds,
I promise to always listen, validate, and accept you no matter what weight, age, color, size, sexuality or diagnosis.
I promise to always fight for your safe haven to become the world you live in.
Even if you do not think you are worth it,
I always will.
Equality for all,
Or equality for none.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 1:49 AM UTC
I am the stain blue candy leaves on your tongue
eyeliner slightly smudged from happy tears
bubble gum that popped on your face
and bright paint stains on brown hands.
I am messy handwritten cursive
and glossy red lipstick prints.
I am singing off key and dancing in parking lots.
I am the laughter that makes your stomach ache
and I am the quickening of the heart.
I am gasping for breath
as I am the sweet smell of summer.
I am sunsets without end
and s’mores that leave chocolate on your hands.
I am not clean sheets unless they are a fort
but I am bold ink that bled onto the next page
and sometimes I am broken glass
clear but for your blood on a jagged end.
Sometimes I am sobbing on the shower floor
and exquisite pain that makes your shoulders shake.
I am fists clenched so hard your nails cut your palm,
the cold and powerful waves of a seastorm.
And I am learning that’s okay.
I am not in your box
and I am not yours to define;
I am mine.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 5:49 PM UTC
Let me apologize, to begin with because of my body type.
I will NEVER be good enough for anyone to date due to current 'hype.'
You know, the battle of 'bones' vs curves?
Just let me inflate myself to the right number so I can properly serve
As the perfect specimen for your delicate eyes.
Obviously no one is good enough unless they've got decent thighs.
But just wait a god **** minute, because here I am again:
So let me apologize, to begin with, if I offend
You or your friends who think they're too good
To date someone larger, with some extra love under the hood.
How many times have I heard you exclaim in disgust
Of how large she is and how you'd drown in her bust
If you even got near her? I saw you shaking in fear.
From your head to your toes, you were trembling dear.
See I'm told to eat more and maybe, just maybe,
At the end of the night I'll be the one you call baby.
But if I was larger, and let's tell the truth,
You'd be so disgusted by my 'sweet tooth.'
I could eat an elephant and never gain a pound,
She could eat a salad and the crunch is the only sound
You hear a mile away and yet you would assume
That burgers and French fries is all that she consumed.
Do you ever stop to think, ladies and gents?
The true beauty of someone isn't based on the number on their pants.
So, let me apologize, to begin with,
If I bruise your massive ego,
But the way to tell if she's the perfect woman is not by your libido.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
I stare into the half length,
double wide vanity that sits
poised in my two bathroom home.
It's reflection of me, naked and
unrefined, are often and unmistakingly
disappointing. But, no longer.
I will embrace my scars of battle. I
will soak in the curves and crevices
of the weight I carry with me.
Counting carbs and chasing carrots
with salad day after day were never
really even my style.
Health. Happiness. Heart. Those
are what matter. Cliche, yes. But true:
A number on a scale is nothing.
I clutch my sides and embrace the
mountains that ridge and peak
laterally on my canvas.
I embrace my full bust and curvy
thighs with earnest demeanor. I
am an image of me. Nearly 20.
No longer will I hold my head low
at a passing glance. I refuse to hide
in clothes too large to disguise my shape.
Beauty is who you are. It's not what
you look like according to the golden
ratios or whatever the hell "they" say.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC