Poems

Be so powerful that no one can hurt you. Dance, sing, write, draw, create, Your body does not control you It does not restrict you from your fantasies Dream of the loveliest thing you can imagine Then strive for the stars. Be angry instead to those who kick you in the head Who gave you a concussion That made you believe you were too fat or skinny. The nurses will check on you, The doctors will medicate you, The therapists will speak to you, But remember, You are the one with

Be gentle with your body; it's the only one you have. Take care of it and cherish your thick thighs, Don’t lift them up when you sit down Stop squeezing your stomach It looks beautiful and perfect as it is. Cry all you want Let the tears fill the river full of flowers and fish, Allow freedom to guide the light in your heart. Don’t be afraid of your face I know someone out there adores it. Your arms aren’t big or small, Don’t hide them. The scars on you They tell a story, Of h

The shell that surrounds me Is contained of sweetened cafe drinks It is contained of birthday parties And celebration How it is now defines me More than how it used to be It used to be terrifying And cold The warmth of life was never felt My shell was injected With empty and tasteless meals This is not how I know myself This was not who I am How it is now Was never a destination It is just me I just had to figure out what that meant Before I was able to be warm

The weight lies in the mind Not the body Like a gray storm thundering across Disrupting everything in its path The storm inside The brain thinks the body imperfect But it cruelly plays tricks on itself A magician It imagines a pretend reality As the eyes scour for these make-believe imperfections As if finding treasure on the island But the X is an illusion A trap It makes comparison to others Wishing it were others Trying to appear like others Still At what price must the br

Let me fly Let me rise Let me believe in my body Let me believe in my soul Let me see the beauty I am Let me feel the scars and stretch marks Let me see myself in the mirror Let me eat normally Let me eat till I'm full Let me eat food that makes me joyful Let me believe in my dreams Let me believe that I will get over hating my body Let me believe that I will one day love my body Let me believe that I will cherish it Let me believe that I am enough.

I wished to reach the stars - that one day, it wouldn’t seem so awful to feel the shape and glow afar. I slipped, and fell into the abyss the darkness enveloping my body, no light in sight, Until I realized, the stars I kept chasing, reaching, were already under my skin – stretch marks I tried to ignore small lights that appeared to be my enemy marked every place I was torn open. What I searched for above me, was the same thing written on me constellations made from damaging

Strength was never who could do the most with the least. Strength is fighting an enemy even when you're exhausted, even when you don't want to because it's hard and because you're not sure. Strength is being able to change your mind on what strength is.

I see the world beyond the shadows, A world that is bright and free Where people smile and joy fills the air I reach my fingertips out, The orange blaze burning my skin, The doctors tell me, To reach the sky, You must hold yourself to the supreme. Heal your rattling mind full of illnesses, Restore your body of chronic disease, Alleviate those symptoms, And those speeches every day spoken by your broken mind. Those endless talks given by doctors too, “Loose the weight, and you

Dear Bug, I know how you feel in that Star Wars shirt and I know how you feel in everything else I know seeing yourself in the shirt makes you feel euphoric Euphoric means feeling pleasured or having intense happiness, bug But I do know that most of everything else you put on makes you feel obscene Obscene means disgusting, bug I know you are now becoming exposed to the internet You are finally becoming aware of diet culture And of the need to be skinny But isn’t this som

Did she too worry about her body? Was she ashamed of how skinny she was? Did she have doctors commenting on her weight too? I hope not. I hope that her body did not stop her dreams, Her passion, Her energy, I hope one day she’ll see how beautiful she is. How her clothes fit her just right, In all the perfect places, And that she’ll stop asking how she looks like. How this color matches her pigmented shiny skin, If she should apply heavy makeup, To look at the tangible mask sh

A new journey to begin from deep within Take all the time you need, no judgement, negativity, pain or self-doubt to proceed Self-love and self-acceptance, this is where you start Practice as needed until they are embedded deep within your heart. Only you get to decide what’s best for you, so choose whatever brings you joy, embrace all that comforts you and all that is good as only you would. Seize every opportunity to love yourself, to see yourself as the unique, irreplaceab

A long winter felt the nights when all I had was my cold, sick body. I felt the snow drop as my insides had fallen out, when my head rested against the toilet. A searing summer felt the days when I felt as if I was going to die, running away from my feelings. Stinging sweat clung to my full chest, which I wished it not to be. A looming feeling sank into the bowl of green grapes that I ate at camp, hoping someone noticed that it was the only thing I had eaten all day. I fe

My body is an echoing cathedral built on shifting ground, its stained-glass windows warping every color into something sharper than light. When I walk inside myself, the floorboards remember every hesitation. They creak with the weight of ghosts I never meant to invite. There is a river that runs through me, thin as a wire, carrying reflections I do not recognize. The water keeps rewriting my silhouette, shaving truths into angles, turning softness into a language I am told I

They taught us the body is a city the gods may enter at will. So I learned early how to lock my gates. Apollo came first— not with plague, but with measure. He laid his lyre across my ribs and said: only what is tuned survives. I listened. Demeter passed me by in winter. Her hands were full, and I pretended not to be starving so she would not stop. I told myself this was discipline. The earth believed me. I counted like a priestess. Seeds. Hours. Bones. Every omission felt li

I watch her every day and I see everything she does. The lunch table hears her murmur about going to the bathroom but only I discern the faint gagging after she disappears to carve her belly whole. The nurses disregard her, painting her emptiness as hunger, but only I hold her hand as she traces the flaring of her ribs. Her boyfriend teases her, squeezing her cheeks and arms, but only I see her falter as she pinches her thighs. I know her thoughts I feel her emotions I see ev

I heard crying from downstairs It was just like any other night, My stuffed animals smiling in the corner, My collection of books waiting to be read, But something was not right, Especially because the crying didn't involve yelling Mom wasn't angry She just did not feel beautiful Beautiful woman, with a big heart and an impeccable drive I admire her in so many ways But none of them had to do with her body But I know she has always believed that her body meant something, To my

When I look in the mirror, I look too fat, Too wide, My clothing oversized, Tell me, is someone lying to me? When I speak out loud, My voice shuts down, My hands instinctively adjusting my clothes, My mind holding me captive, Tell me, am I lying to myself? When I step onto the scale, I see overweight written on it, I begin writing down my calories, Checking everything I grab at the store, Tell me, is my reality a lie? When I sit down, I make sure to tuck my stomach, To lift m

i learned my body the way people learn enemies— by watching closely, by flinching first. mirrors became witnesses, never kind, never silent. every curve a crime, every softness a failure. i shrank myself into apologies, into numbers, into “almost enough,” believing if i disappeared neatly i might finally be seen. now i know —it was never my body that was toxic, it was the voice that taught me to hate living in it.

I spent my youth in careful thought Of shape and measure, worth and frame, Believing virtue might be found In lesser breadth, in smaller claim. I learned to weigh myself in glances, To read each silence as decree, And held my form to harsh account As though it stood for all of me. How quick the world instructs the eye To judge the vessel, not the soul; How readily we mistake the part For evidence of the whole. Yet time, that patient tutor, shows What youth is loath to underst

I learned my body through mirrors, through numbers whispered like verdicts, through the way praise arrived only when I took up less space. I learned to negotiate with hunger, to call it discipline, to mistake silence for strength and absence for control. But this body— it carried me through classrooms and kitchens, held my breath when I cried in bathrooms, showed up every day even when I wanted to disappear. I blamed it for changing, for softness, for need, for not staying sm