Skinny boxes

(Old poem of mine)

Dying to be thin
Dying to win the game of "pretty".
you tell me I'm beautiful
But won't look me in the eyes when you say it.

Collar bones, thigh gaps
Flawless skin
A beautiful trap.

I can't be myself
Because I'm trapped in a box.
It reads " handle with care"
Because I'm so close to breaking.

Society tells you to love yourself.
But only if you fit the box..
You don't? Starve yourself until you fit.
Hide yourself, with clothes..
With make-up.
With that pretty fake smile.

If I looked pretty
Maybe I could find myself worth while.

I look in the mirror
Staring back at me..do you know what I see?

A beast.
Ugly, hairy, fat..
A nightmare,
Instead of someone worth while.