Pressures of Perfection

Thu, 10/03/2013 - 14:09 -- hstokas

Tap tap

The pen cap clicks down on the metal clipboard.

The harsh light above head blares.

Illuminated. yellow light,

Falling on the skin of the

Already pale beauty.

Careful not to stare,

I glance, quick:

Her bony finger traces.

Outlining the waxy page.

Her eyes filled with want,

Her other hand rests heavily on her stomach.

She pauses a moment, zooming in,

Casting her gaze and catching her breathe

Digging her fingernail into the golden chain

That reveals the diminutive waist

Of the girl on the page.

She pushes hard into her stomach.

Tap tap

Its society at your door

Sign up, or be out casted.

That extra Cheetos bag?

Throw it out

Or open your arms

To your new life

One with no friends,

No love interests.

One where every glimpse in a mirror will bring you to tears

Pinch this, pull that.

What would I look like I wasn’t so fat?

Maybe he’d see me if I lost five pounds.

I could never wear that.. I’m too fat.

Pin straight hair,

Nonexistent thighs.

Supple skin,

And anorexia.

Tap tap

Open your eyes to the beauty.

Open your heart to yourself

I swallow my food

How about you?

Smile with each pound

Dance in the rain,

Because your bones are not yet frail enough to stop you

 

 

 

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