The word smashes and creates lashes.
It penetrates the mind and tells her lies.
It stings to the core and makes her want to live no more.
The sixth grade crush from down the street now lives with regret.
Wishing she had never heard what he said,
from behind the backyard shed.
She runs to the bathroom,
becomes chained to the toilet.
Tears spill from her face,
And she fills with rage
Vowing never to let food in.
She never cut but she cried,
Boy did it hurt inside.
All the giggles from every jiggle.
Every inch of her undesired silhouette.
No more twinkies and swiss rolls.
Or listening to, “Honey, it’s just baby fat.”
She knows it’s time to stop stuffing her face,
so she can walk with confidence and grace.
Her teacher tells her it’s time for a new shirt as
her belly protrudes from the bottom.
Her favorite shirt now stained with embarrassment,
is slashed down the middle later that night.
Keep it up with the fake smile.
At least no one knows she’s been suicidal.
Finally the belly starts to flatten.
Finally the thighs start to grow apart.
Finally the triple chin decreases by two.
Finally they think she’s pretty.
The inside only grows more ugly.
Well at least she’s not Fat anymore.
She walks into the school and feels like new.
She’s forty pounds less and looks good in her new dress.
But the mirror still reflects the same,
nothing has changed, what a shame.
The rumbling tidal wave hits her like a brick wall.
She just wanted to finally impress them all.
The lies continue to slither to the surface of her mind,
and she no longer can understand why.
Years later it still hurts,
when somebody uses the F word.
But she’s learned to admire her reflection,
and know she’ll never reach the point of perfection.
She takes another look into the mirror and
smiles so big she shines with beauty.
She realizes someone will always be skinner
but no one will ever be her.