' 'body image' 'myself'

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in*spi*ra*tion what a silly little word for a  forever changing fact. what is the point of being inspired if the product of inspiration is nothing but disappointment? this. 
your body is your home in case you didnt hear that i'll repeat it again your body is your home your body is home to something beautiful
your body is your home in case you didnt hear that i'll repeat it again your body is your home your body is home to something beautiful
5:30 am.I pretend it isn’t, so I can rise. Read. Run. Remind my burning thighs(of their burden).6:00 am. Already, I am tired.
Do you know what goes into the selfie life?  Depression and lies To live on approval   Dangerous beauty distorted  It’s addictive as cocaine
  i pass the mirrors in my bathroom. and i never fail to notice every fault of mine, stretched out in front of me.
There’s an old phrase that states if only these walls could talk.
Didn’t you know boy’s like skinny girls.  those with their jutted out boney hips. That only anorexia can fix.  Don’t you understand?  Those hips, these thighs.  This hurt, the lies. People say it’s all about your personality.  But I don’t believe
W e jumped into the pool late one night, E veryone’s clothes still on, ears waterlogged. L ooking down, I saw my pink shirt C linging to the cold curve of my hip,
I distinctly remember the first time I saw Most girls’ bodies start to change. I was twelve years old.   I stared with amazement and awe. Their long legs,
My life has been anything but comfortable. I starved myself, cut my wrists and tried to find anything punishable. As a little girl you filled shelves with love, you never imagined it get so tough.
I wish I could tell myself back then that, people don't care what you look like, how small or thick your thighs are, or what size you wear. What they do see is, the redness from your tears,
sun illuminates the sky  and these golden maple leaves  as i'm looking up at you and these october fallen trees  thinking of the pumpkin patches  and the bouncy house before 
sun illuminates the sky  and these golden maple leaves  as i'm looking up at you and these october fallen trees  thinking of the pumpkin patches  and the bouncy house before 
She is perfect, simply beautiful; voices echo throughout the room. Take her home; she’s a gift, give her love she will bloom.
She was an 8-year-old girl naive and didn’t understand what it meant to be “fat” She didn’t care it never bothered her The subtle hints that slip her family’s tongues
Dear Body,    Don’t be ashamed; not anymore. Don’t cry; not anymore. Don’t hurt yourself; not anymore. You are the temple Gods enter to sing their harmonies in.
I stared at the ceiling, crying.  I gripped tighter onto my blanket. This same night recurs like a bad dream Echoing in my mind, "This is all there is."   No one ever wanted to play with me at school.
Getting named called from my own fucking community is hard.   Laugh at me For my black shade For my black hair For my black face
I am fat. Some may say “same” or “retweet” I am looking at you Ms. size four or five. SHUT UP. Some of you are looking around the room
I am fat. Some may say “same” or “retweet” I am looking at you Ms. size four or five. SHUT UP. Some of you are looking around the room
All we’ve got Is a Precious Knowledge of Self- Destruction I’ve overdosed on weight loss remedies To feel loved It didn’t work
Scared of rejection Scared of judgement I'll stare at my reflection Every moment  
I remember it like it was seconds ago. Anxiously, Waiting in the hall for my group to be called To awe a table of discriminators And teach these other girls a thang or two as if I was an educator
When I was young I took a look at myself. I always feared how people would veiw me. Would I not be good enough? Would I not be worthy? My biggest fears came from my very own mind. I used to believe I was not the prettiest or smartest girl.
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