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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 17, 2018

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Submitted: July 17, 2018




You are beautiful Your hair runs a river down your back and your eyes shimmer with the light of a thousand stars You are made of miracles You are not defined by me Even as I surround your world with messages of what you can’t be I am a parasite that no one else can see But you are not defined by me I will make you beautiful

Just like the millions before you The barbie-doll girls with baby- doll curls who never could be beautiful Let me Photoshop out your imperfections so only you can see them But you see them all too clearly I will create a society of complacency Where boys and girls have fought for what they are taught is beautiful You are beautiful

What a utopia! I will star on billboards and movie screens Working my magic from behind the scenes And you live in a world of baby birds with broken wings begging to fly And I--

I will mend your broken wings with empty promises And as you fall you will shine Shine brighter than your painted on smile A smile brightened by the toothpaste you forced yourself to use this morning Feeling pride as its calories fill you up Knowing this is all you’ll eat today

No, Not pride- Pride is ugly I will make you swallow your pride faster than you swallow your fingers Don’t you know that pride is not beautiful And I will make you beautiful

I will eat away at you with an appetite larger than you will ever have For me, you will be the food that you so crave And for you- You will be beautiful

Your hair will run rivers through your palms and the stars will fall from your eyes You’ll look up at the tired face you hardly recognize you’ll criticize And beg me to make you beautiful

Perhaps if I carve heart shapes into your hip bones then someone will love you Because nobody loves you But I love you

Don’t try and fight me! For every punch you throw will only leave bruises on your already paling knuckles Your words will falter and your knees will buckle And you will cry

You’ll taste your tears, leaving you emptier than any purge could

And I will feast And when I’ve eaten my fill When you have nothing left but skin and hip bones protruding from a nearly empty casket You will fall to the earth And flowers will grow And they will be beautiful.

© Copyright 2018 Hannah Mae Thompson. All rights reserved.

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