Beautiful

Who am I to think I’m beautiful?
Disproportionate at every angle, my figure is shaped like that of a pear’s.
And any claims to beauty seem to be rare,
because I can hardly stand the sight of my body bare.  
My stomach, no matter how hollow it feels,
the emptiness is nowhere near as real as the choked up words in my throat,
hoping to puke up the ignorance of dinner, last night.
My legs burn not because of my miles by foot but by the distance of thinness in sight.
I’ve tried running.
Running to lose,
running away from the extra pounds that still seem to astound many as I admit my worth in pounds.
I’ve tried eating less.
Less words of criticism that seem to digest in my mind,
because just like the food I have at home,
it’s an accessible and easy find.
I’ve even tried to starve.
Starve the temptation by depriving my body the right to feeling whole.
Puking never proved its worth either,
but I loved feeling empty and hollow.
I never wished again to swallow down the words of the self-indulging. 

Am I ugly because I’m fat,
or pertaining to the definition,
anything but three inches thin?
Because that is the reason that I seem to find myself throwing up everything I have within.
I no longer wish to see the thunder in my thighs,
they don’t belong in my legs, they belong in the skies.
I wish not to feel my stomach jut out of its place because of the disgrace and the disgust I have to face with myself.
And no, this has nothing to do with self-loathing,
this is just the story of a disproportionate girl unloading.
A girl told by the media that she’ll never be able to be pretty because her figure is not distorted enough and that where beauty needs to be smooth, her exterior is just too rough.
So who am I to think I’m beautiful?
If the magazines and the mirror don’t agree.
And I’m stuck staring at this ugly girl in reflection I see.

Sometimes, it takes a while to digest,
but there are just better thoughts to invest in.
A healthier mind set to feel refreshed in.
Every girl is beautiful, regardless of their skin or the pants size they fit in.
And although sometimes I look in the mirror and feel discouraged,
I look in my heart for the courage.
I must remind myself that I am not any less of a woman because I can’t fit a size two
but if you do, embrace your body and do you.
We come in all shapes and sizes.
All we need to realize is
Is that if we don’t accept ourselves,
how can we expect acceptance from anyone else?
Be happy with what you’ve got
and flaunt it if you think you’re hot.
Love yourself because confidence is key
and it is every beautiful girl’s best accessory.
So screw the media for telling you lies,
don’t let them tell you what beauty should be in your eyes.
The girl you see in the mirror is perfect.  
So although we may be different, just like you, I am beautiful too.

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