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

she used to be okay.
always a smile on her face and
she talked with a sweet voice,
which is something i don't want to under state,
and she never really cared that she was
40 pounds overweight.

but now as she lays on the beach
and no boys and no girls look her way
she feels invisible, even while she dreams of
being able to tell her parents that she
might be gay.

her parents talk about her figure
and how she'll never compare to how her
sister looked when she was her age.
thin, toned legs and a stomach with abs.
after all, who wants to date a girl
with flabs?

she has a blog dedicated to the thin girls
who make her feel so bad,
it makes her feel less,
it makes her feel sad.

if only she counted calories and
if only she could fit in that size two,
maybe she's be the perfect daughter that
her parents wish they knew.

but even as she drinks a sprite and
takes all her bites in spite she knows that
if she was skinny then
everything would be alright.

all she needs a push and a pro ana friend and
maybe she can be the perfect daughter
again. She can't like girls and she
must skip dinner, by the end of the year her
bones and boyfriend will
show that she is a winner.

-r.a.

Here I say hello to the
Fragments of fortified compounds
Which yield old holy love
Without thought or need of itself
I take hold of the wind
With grasping bow and a smile
A tune in my back pocket
And a swirl of cupcake that is sweat like gold
When alone I swerve in the night
As if I had nothing else to give that was right
Oh the thoughts of here are near cloudy white moon
Waiting for the hour to press on me like a weight
She cries and cries like a floating kite
Apart from her I make nothing worthwhile
I take each minute mechanical meat cleaver
Grocery stores aflame and all the same
Up in the high mountain the festive fountains
Splash out water that in the end will never matter
And throughout the festival the winners
Are the ones who dance without themselves
Memorials for the dead who have yet to be born
Rhythmic heart you beat as if lost torn music
Locked inside the mind you pry it open
But see it is only full of cotton
Good sir you make enough money
Will you let me have some?
I'll take your paper for a walk and
Will feed your fish every midnight
Your wife says you lie about your love life
Why would you do that to a woman
Who swears you were married underneath a holy sermon?
But I ask no questions that I cannot answer
So I am sorry but I will have to go
Here are a couple buttons and some muttons
I found at an alter per pound and a carton
Whispers on the water front lake
Where love goes to live and die
Each leaf here owes their own specific fine
And the machines cough as they bend over and wheeze
The rocky path we walked upon that fair night
Made me think of the ancients and all of their might
The squeak of the dinner chair
The man stands and then does fall
His mistress screams as she reaches for the beams
And calls the police as she pours out coffee and cream
But nobody seems to hear her pleas
And the man dies without a whimper or belief
Not that truth lies in words or the old mans sleeves
Every cave has their shadows ah mysterious ravines
When I say I don't much care to stay in one place I mean it
But that don't mean my love is all the thinner
I was born without a future and without a past
But that doesn't mean our love won't ever last
Now some say the sky was made by a hand
And others claim by no man only water pipes
And some people creep around waving their pamphlets about
Trying to sell me the stuff like it were stout
But I keep away from those money schemes
I head out the back way fast to leave
To move on to the next riddle the next stream
I ain't saying I'm better or I'm to good for you
There is just something inside of me I feel I have to do
And when the lonesome blues get atop of me
And you can bet your bottom dollar they do
I just look for a cool beer at the bar
And meet a friend at the corner around two
So say farewell to the ministry of defense
I always knew they were never going to pay my rent
I'm headed out the backdoor but what's more
I won't make a peep as I float across the floor
Reality who weeps on steps of ramshackled shack
Tears aloof in high esteem and praised by all
Twangs of misery flood the wooden stair case
As the ghosts of ancient literature are born again
And the minds of the young artists twists as it reads
The ******* the others have filtered through
And have all finished to **** and ***
Holding the quote like a ***** we all seem to do
Fragrance from the hands of the remembered ones
Heroes of the pen are recalled on
By the ones who can never strum a song
But what is it for if in the end it turns to nothing?
The experience that will soon be covered in dirt
Worms who eat away at the flesh the memories the dreams
Collecting the mulch for the next round of contestants
For the game within the game
Each staircase lined with the burnt bones of the past
A dark black mirror with no reflection
Pool of hot water burned from lack of affection
Monologue of nothing with a shoe string around its neck
An empty stage with an empty man in plaid
Grinning as he says nothing but believes it is everything
The piano man plays for a crowd of drunks
Collects his things and throws them in a flaming trunk
Headed home to a wife with a knife around her throat
And smiles are the thing we are wishing for!
And fortune and happiness and praise!
How the smile wanes as the wishes are forgotten
And the smoky ash of a volcano within
Erupts and there is no one around you who cares
Or gives a **** to save!
The night hawks pray on the weak
And mother nature a few times I have heard her speak
Darwin shuffles his deck of cards
As the igloos up North do not seem so far
I take it or leave it for anything worth doing
Is worth dying for
When your up against a world full of fakers
All you can do is arm yourself
With an essence that comes from some peoples Maker
Fear in the flabs of her fat
She talks of herself her woes and her troubles
The mask has been empty for years
When the soul once was is now only filled with tears
Hear the heart break of the century
A 25 year old billionaire!
A catastrophe of triumph!
A leap and a bound towards nowhere!
Catch the news if your mind may will it
They are burning money in Europe and the moon
We make our own future so our children don't have too!
A forgery mined in the caverns of procrastinated time.

My lunchtime consists of either not eating or stuffing my face till the words "fat ***" crawl out of my friends mouth. The words sting me like a bee or a metaphor that's been overused like...being stung by a bee. Let's think about this for a minute though, think about whether or not I should feel guilty for my pleasures. I started starving myself sophomore year, the words breakfast lunch and dinner made me want to puke out the hatred I have for a body whose done nothing to me. At one point I tried to love myself, tried to show that food isn't the enemy it's just the voices in my head that tell me it is. "You should lose weight." "You're out of shape" "Fat ***", these count for each stretch mark I have on my body that crept up slowly and silently on me like a murderer to his victim. One was from my dad, two was from my friends, three was from my mom cause she said I was so handsome, four cause I don't deserve to eat, five cause I want to be pretty. Six because guys like me don't get to be pretty.
   It doesn't end easily or quickly. I've gone from overweight to underweight to a healthy weight to a weight where I pull back the flabs of skin so I can count my ribs one by one again. I've even gotten to the point where if somebody tells me I look good all I can think is that they're lying. I see a difference between fat and fat, the words itself form the gelatinous image you imagine when thinking of them, sounding sour as it comes off my tongue. You don't have to be a girl to have an eating disorder, a ****** up concept that society hasn't quite grasped yet.

Flabs upon *****
of excessive skin
flock towards the sands
to soak up the rays of
the day light hours
and delude themselves
in the roped off
safety zone waters
of the seashore.
Benched from lack of participation,
sober and observant,
you can't help but overhear
a conversation about the salty tastes
and textures of boys *******
between four teenage girls
who look like they just entered
the early stages of middle school
and should not know anything,
at that age,
about that topic of discussion.
Seagulls slowly glide overhead
waiting for the perfect moment
to bomb white droppings in the
******* mouths of the hodads
and steal their bacon while they
quickly scurry off and guffaw
on the inside.
Young ladies *****
hang proudly out of their
skimpy bathing suits and stare
into the sunken eyes of perverse old men. Socks and sandals roam the shores
like tyrants to detect metals
in the sand with their hiked up baggies, buttoned up blue Hawaiians
and fisherman hats.
They'll find god before
they find these treasures.
Unsupervised children puke peaches
and use plastic shovels
to pour buckets of sand
down the backs and cracks of rubbernecks with discourtesy and no remorse.
Adults shaded, relaxed and
nose deep in books
leave the responsibilities
of their parental duties
with inexperienced lifeguards
to babysit their youngsters
while they doggie paddle
and submerge in the undertow
along the waves of the oceanside.
Concession stands serve
delicious yet unhealthy,
deep fried grotesque of
appetizers and entrees
to the potbellied roly-poleys
as they wash it all down
with a fountain of syrup
and carbonation.
Bare footed beefy **** diesels
and their skinny minis
walk hand and hand
over the broken beer bottles
and sharp rocks buried in the sand,
unscathed and luxuriate
in teenage love
and summer fun.
Dorks and dweebs
play sand sphere
with bunnies and honeys
while Gremlins and grommets
hunch like Quasimodo
on their surfboards
and ride the ankle busters
and pounders til the end
as they hit the bone yard
at point break.
The sun shines down on all of us
leaving that warmth and radiant glow
as you watch the mythical creatures
and sea serpent shaped clouds
slowly overpass.
What a lovely day at the beach.

There is a face
That lingered
So constantly
Her name
was Cindy
I thought at first
She wanted to help
But now I see
That she hates me
‘Purge it!’
She screamed
Standing over me
I obeyed
Since it was all
I was capable of
She told me
She loved me
When I looked
In the mirror
She revealed
My hideous flabs
Bulges and bumps
And was encouraging
When I tried
To banish them
But then
After a time
I realized
That face
In the mirror
Was only me.

_                                       ~                                   _
1. you have taught me to feel insecurity about
entering relationships if they're not godsent.
2. why do you tell me that i'm pushing you
away when i have never tried letting you in?
3. stop tracking me. stop following me. leave
me alone. that's all i've ever wanted from you.
4. we started off strong, and ended up unkempt.
5. you damaged my lover, damaging myself.
6. take off your lack of pride before clothes.
7. something flipped, maybe it was you.
8. don't add fuel to a dying flame, *****.
9. now i can see how you're vexatious,
a human equivalent of a loony bin.
10. i'll give you something to gossip
about, you stuck-up *******.
11. in fact, i don't kiss and tell, sorry.
12. you just kept on ******* pushing me.
13. why can't you just leave me alone?
14. you remind me why i've become
so repellant towards the human race.
15. no offense, but you're not my type.
16. i wish for you a lifetime of failed
relationships and bad karma.
17. don't get angry at me because you
couldn't get your feelings reciprocated.
18. you never understood me when i
had told you how bad it gotten.
19. how low can you actually get?
20. can you take a ******* hint?
21. i'm thankful i wasn't manipulated
into having a baby with you, honestly.
22. things were too awkward for us,
we were strangers in love at times.
23. it never seemed like you were
easy to please, but i couldn't run.
24. glad i dodged that bullet with you.
25. keep on reminding me how much
of a **** up i am, and i'll ******* leave.
26. the part that wouldn't let me get close
to you was the fact i was entirely two-faced.
27. you can shove your judgemental fingers
up your whale looking flabs, sick ****.
28. don't think a ******* $20 blowdryer is
enough to buy my love, step-******.
29. there is always a brick wall between us.
30. now you're patrolling me on here?
31. things never come to a close, and that
also applies to how our story ended.
32. you made out with me, and left me
broken in the end. should've known.
33. i'd like to shove a bar of soap so far
up your ***, you hypocritical mexifucker.
34. you hurt me so severely, making the
rest of the numbers look like my friends.
35. how dare you make my brother try
*******, you crack-headed *****.
36. you are a familiar comfort, but that
doesn't mean i won't put up my walls.
37. both of us have terrible secrets, we
are very good at being hypocrites.
38. i don't like people who **** others.
39. we were the ones who vandalized
your mailbox that one summer night.
40. you were the first girl i've kissed,
and the first person who flipped faces.
41. wow, did you really exchange your
girlfriend to my boyfriend for me? ew.

The girl in the mirror
She stare at me with saddest eyes anyone has ever seen
She has so many cracks to be filled
Her heart is hanging by a thread
So broken and bruised
The girl in the mirror
Is disgusted by what she sees
The flabs , the bulky stomach
She wants to look like the magazine
She wants to have the face of beauty that is to real to be
She desire to have girls envy
She desire guys to thirst for her love
The girl in the mirror
Wants to be free
She want to let her wings fly and never stop
She wants to run and never turn back
The girl in the mirror
She has cuts that run too deep
She has deadly thoughts that is too viscous to see
She became something she tried not to be
She is fighting a battle that will dictate her life
The girl in the mirror
Is dead
She pulled the trigger waiting for the bullet to impact
She slits her wrist ready for the blood to overflow
She hangs herself waiting for the air to be choked out of her
She waits till she gets the signal to press play
Pow!
The girl in the mirror
Is dead no longer to be seen
For i no longer see her only the wall behind me
She pressed play
Now she don’t exist
Now there's just an empty mirror
That stares back at me.

i dare you
go on
tell me not to eat that
tell me i can't wear that
tell me i look fat
tell me i can't run
i can't party
tell me i can't move,
tell me i can't accomplish
tell me i should starve
tell me i should do something about this weight
this look
tell me i should run and not eat
no more than one leaf of lettuce a day
tell me i should only drink water
tell me no one will love me
no one will want me
tell me i'm ugly
tell me i'm not worth it
tell me my flabs are just a waste of space, and
that i take up too much oxygen when i breathe, because

i'm fat.
i'm fat.
i'm fat.
I'M FAT
my head screams as i look into the mirror
do you think your friends aren't embarrassed to be seen with you?
honey, do you think you're pretty?
oH, do you think you can afford to go out
grab some dinner with your 'friends'?
can you afford that weight?
are you even pretty enough?
oH, do you think
really really think
you deserve to be happy today?
ha ha
that's funny
b'tch
look at your belly and go back to bed
go cry
worthless
worthless
worthless
you'll never be great
well, size is the exception.
you're a waste of space
stop
breathing.
honey, i don't think they make coffins your size..
it's okay,
you can feed the fish
:)
(C) Elissar Mustapha
27.03.2020

The girl in the mirror
She stare at me with saddest eyes anyone has ever seen
She has so many cracks to be filled
Her heart is hanging by a thread
So broken and bruised
The girl in the mirror
Is disgusted by what she sees
The flabs, the bulky stomach
She wants to look like the magazine
She wants to have the face of beauty that is too .? real to be
She desires to have girls envy
She desires guys to thirst for her love
The girl in the mirror
Wants to be free
She wants to let her wings fly and never stop
She wants to run and never turn back
The girl in the mirror
She has cuts that run too deep
She has deadly thoughts that are too viscous to see
She became something she tried not to be
She is fighting a battle that will dictate her life
The girl in the mirror
She pulled the trigger waiting for the bullet to impact
She slits her wrist ready for the blood to overflow
She hangs herself waiting for the air to be choked out of her
She waits till she gets the signal to press play
Pow!
The girl in the mirror
Is dead no longer to be seen
For I no longer see her only the wall behind me
She pressed play
Now she doesn’t exist
Now there's just an empty mirror
That stares back at me.

A girl with a small head and a big body

She’s happy in her skin thinks everybody

She never fails a glance at her reflection

Every inch of her body is under detection

She doesn’t want to fail standards of her own

Set by the society, is the tone

Not that she’s over weight

Health hazards are out of her fate

But she’s a girl with a small head and a big body

She wished to look like somebody

Her safari tabs are filled with instructions

How to lose weight and a diet construction

How many she should miss her lunches

Compromise that with fifty more lunges

Calorie calculator opened on one

How much weight can she lose in a month?

Not that anybody forces her

But in her mind there is an ideal figure

She wants to be that at any cost

Amongst a crowd of everybody she wants to be lost

She doesn’t understand she has an identity

That’s only hers she’s that one entity

She’s beautiful, she’s real

Who decides what is the ideal!?

She’s hardworking, she’s approachable

She’s respected and she’s capable

The size of her waist cannot determine

Whether she’s great or just fine

She hopes to find love someday

But she fails to understand that what come may

The one who it is will appreciate her

Her flabs and cellulite will not matter

It is her which is the highlight of herself

And day in day out it isn’t her body, but her who excels.

I spend my regret
like it’s a foreign currency,
higher value
in my current deflated market.

I take my memories
and hold them till
they ulcerate my mind,
till seizures set in
and in my trembling
I find the curved lines
that connect us.

I take all the time
I have not wasted
in seeking purely
pleasurable moments,
even if I needed that leisure,
and I give it to the body you view;
Let this meat collect
compound interest
as it grows and thins,
flabs out and tightens
gains and loses muscle.

I am just a vessel
of borrowed flesh,
a thief of the present
that I steal for myself
and share sparingly.

I devour the world
and excrete neat
lines of love
and give them
to all of you.