with an army of magazines 
and beauty queens
how do i compete?
when my trophy case of 
unattainable standards
stays
empty
spiders hibernate and weave in my 
valley of insecurity

when its a race 
pick up the pace
because today’s the sale 
for a new face

the lines are long…

makeup commercials merge into
songs
and I’ve memorized the lyrics
and studied the brochures
because only four payments of
shame ninety nine
can buy me a better body 

words sting when miss Tennessee 
is the new model for recreational 
or the norm

LORD PLEASE tell me 
how i am supposed to compete 
with beautiful woman 
who DISGUSTINGLY bind their feet,
but metaphorically 
how can i impress when i cant afford that dress
and who is gonna love me
take care of me
accept me
when I jackhammer off the 
makeup…
wipe off the touch up
let my mascara run

so liberating 
so fun…

yet i fear 
that it wont be clear, exactly 
what my intentions are

my bridge of doubt runs for miles
with mirrors broken 
and my BEDROOM IS STOLEN
with fake faces on faker magazines

i question…
WHY you mock me
WHY MUST you rob me,
of the confidence and beauty,
i was born with, why oh! why 
do you make me believe 
that real beauty is a,
size negative thirteen
AND WHY DO I STILL TRY
to be that size
try to fit in those jeans 
when even though…i know
if that zipper zips 
if that button buttons
it means I’m in a coffin 
but why do i still crave it…
why do i need it
AND WHO F***ING DARED 
MADE ME THINK IT…

models with mile long legs
are prettier
when the camera is clearer.

why do you fear me?
try to conform me 
leaving me and she
and ALL of we,

feeling useless
leaving me clueless
as to whether or not my hips are bad
or if i should be
mad
about the natural sag of my skin
wanting to be thin…
but learning to accept,
and forget
about the ads that stiffly scatter on my bed
keep trying to creep into my head
but they wont oh not today 
for i stand tall
my lumps and all
for i am proud to stand among
the thinnest crowd WITHOUT
holding my head down.

I’ll keep it up

cause if you stand high enough
the words
the images from the magazines
can not reach me and we
if i become a skyscraper
i will be untouchable
unbreakable, no make-up on…
BUT UNSTOPPABLE….

——

submitted by dirtysocksinmydrawers