self image

Dear Self-Image

Dear self-image

 

Hi. I hear them too.Walking down the hallway,sitting in class. I hear the whispers that are so clear, they might as well be shouting. I look but see nothing. I close my eyes and hear everything. But when I open the whispers stop. Not because they see me watch them but because then I'm not alone. I hear the whispers but they are not bad as they only talk about Their mums or dads or work or school or life. Not about me. Not about us. All the fat jokes that leave my mouth hurt more than anyone can do to me. Thinking that if I insult myself, then they can't. But they don't insult me not because they don't have to because they don't want to. They are my friends. I see them nearly everyday. They are the ones who help the pain go away. Not because im depressed, not because I'm sad and not because we share the same waist line because we don't. Every single one of us. All neat or freaks. We're all different not because we choose to be. i am what I am and they accept me, not because im funny, not because im fat, but because we help each other when life gets bad. So yes I hear the whispers. The ones that aren't there. I hear the whispers that you yell down my ear. That everytime I walk past a model, you shout in my brain "she thinks your fat, remeber this pain" or when I have a shower and look in the mirror you yell "You too fat, fatter than this mirror" so dear self image. I would like to say "stop the ideas of starvation in my head everyday" or "stop the insults" because I've had enough. You can't stop bullying when it's only in your brain. Stop making me turn on my friends each day. Bulimia is serious not to joke around. Stop telling me to starve myself. To get the perfect waist line or just to fit in because my friends love me. And I love them. So dear Self image. Please make it stop. I like myself so enough is enough.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Hi. This is my first poem. I'm sorry if it's long or bad I just love poems. Please message me for any improvements. Thank you!

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Sing While Falling (day 168)

I have learned how to sing while falling

how to shiver in the summer

how to build bridges in the eye of a forest fire

 

I have learned how to pull against gravity

how to count against the current

and let the moon hear me scream

 

I have learned to walk when there’s no ground under me

and to smoke out things that love the flame

how to speak softly and be heard

 

Maybe I’m teaching myself

cracking apart just to crush parts back together,

I am magnetic

I will never be visible power,

this girl inside me is barely an acquaintance

but I’m so proud of her

she has learned how to sing while falling.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 1/11/17

Self image

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Mirror (day 52)

Winter’s supposed to make me

feel like I belong,

safe in my own skin

but instead I pick this war

 

Hard to swallow what I thought I saw

in the mirror

 

So I’ll cut your little heart out

I want to make a mess

of this house and this life

 

Lightning strikes my reflection

cause there’s no more dreaming

when you’re on the second floor

 

I wanted summer to steal

all the packages I drag around,

but I guess I’m stuck with them

and I’m chained to that girl

on the other side of the glass

 

But none of these thoughts break the law,

nothing I write is ever good enough

Why should I be scared of a mirror?

 

So I’ll be calm as fierce fire when I’m

falling apart,

the cold mirror grounds me

as I press my hand flat as glass

At least it can’t write a dissertation on everything I’ve done wrong and all the slippery words I’ve said

like you did

 

So I’ll face a different kind of danger

without stepping alone

 

So I’ll lose what I needed

just to realize I’m okay

 

So I’ll learn sometimes

one snow angel, one sprinter in the heat

is even better

 

So I’ll almost scream but

use my voice for more desperate things

like telling her she’s beautiful

 

I’ll cut your little heart out

and leave it on the staircase,

so I can step over it and not

carry it any more miles

 

But I won’t shatter that mirror

she’s all I have.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/22/16

Mirror

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When You Look at Me'

Folder: 
Just a thought!

Standing there, in silent pause, you weep behind the pane,

You look at me and see yourself, with nothing more to gain.

A forward view depresses you, all caught up in the past,

You say you know, but won't let go of shadows that you cast.

Look at me, what do you see?... Your heart has no desire,

When all you do is dwell on what was, there's no future to inspire.

Take a peek, deep down inside, and you'll see those painful ties...

You need a new start, so release your heart'...The mirror never lies'




Author's Notes/Comments: 

"When You Look at Me"

Under the Knife

Folder: 
2010

 

There's beauty!
Where? Beneath the flab,
Peel off the clothes,
Pull back the fat.
Reveal the gaunt and twisted thing
That dwelt beneath the ghastly skin.
Tie back the hair, reveal the face,
Beneath the gore resides our case,
The masterpiece we'll call our own;
The girl that hid within the crone.
Our eyes are sharp,
Our knives are keen,
She'll hardly even feel a thing as we
mold and sculpt beneath the skin.

And when we're done,
What pride she'll feel!
This face we give that isn't real
Will bless her with true love for life,
Until the Belle begins to fade,
And then once more she'll need our blade.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this poem a while ago, I've been working on it for a while. I haven't been to postpoems.com for nearly five years, I haven't been writing much at all... I'm hoping to change that, and posting this is the first step. :-) Critique desperately desired. :P

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