InchesA Poem by Indra's Child
"You don't have to put up with that waistline,"
"You need to lose a few off that awful 22." "We have only your best interests in mind, so put that ribcage in a bind" The advertised and the adverse, Self loathing is a mantra For centuries, deformities Have been the bar of beauty amongst the strata... It's hard to be 'pretty', it hurts to be beautiful. pain is okay when it's done for the 'right' reasons. Unbearable heat, breathless lungs; It's okay because girls 'just want to have fun'. Blood-blistered rashes under iron cages, a debatable subject over the ages. Taught to be obedient well, By your mother, your brother, your sister, your father... Take off those unappealing inches, with some conforming tightened cinches. Hypnotised by the looks you get when you walk into a room, arsenic on your face and oxygen full of fumes, this is existence- you do it all because it is why you're here, and pray tell, are you doing it well? A quick measurement around your waist should say, if you need to starve yourself at a faster pace. It doesn't matter that your stomach isn't where it should be anyway, because you are The bees knees, The cats' meow, And the cat A flying bird, A henhouse gossip, A chick The good wife, A princess, Never the Queen You are pretty, but your body is obscene You are The bell of the ball! A goddess, And a diva, A doll You are My fair lady, The fairer sex Not as smart, not as strong Work together? You can't even get along... Infantile, objectifyable Never a woman, always a girl. "Uptight, b***h, prewd," "W***e, s**t, hoe, lewd." If you stand up, your morality's low, don't be afraid to let a little modesty show. Hide your shame, original blame; Oppression in the name of- Beauty. © 2017 Indra's ChildFeatured Review
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StatsAuthorIndra's ChildOakland, CAAboutI just want to wake up from the dream. "Hi. It's me. I know you're out there. I can feel you now. I imagine you can also feel me. You won't have to search for me anymore. I'm done running. Done hid.. more..Writing
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