Ok, so tell me about
how important
it is to be me
and how I am not
some problem to solve
and that I’m this unique
journey to love
but tell me the truth
without the pound of makeup
four filters on Instagram
sporting clad clothes
and implants in a flirty
perfect selfie pose
go ahead, tell me to be myself
with my cellulitic love handles
saddlebags I carry like groceries
in stretched thin skin
that bore life and as a consequence
my body has little capital
my toothless feminine voice
an ordinary canvas
not skinny
not magazine pretty
ratings indicate
you don’t really want to see it
the problem with you is
the same problem with me
I’m trying to wake from this
nightmarish war on us
millions of women
second class citizens
vying for the untouchable beauty
that gives a “forever” value
and if she’s fat it’s only ok
if she has a pretty face
and covers that skin tone
with a blemish concealer
because your natural face
needs chemicals to be acceptable
what’s irritating is the dissonance
of the disease state masked as the cure
you write in resonance with the mainstream
for readership and analytics
you will say whatever
sounds great
yet you aren’t solving any
problems with these flowery words
your production-ready
hypocrisy to cause envy
rich girl revelations
about what beauty is
and how you write yourself alive
please, you are blessed with life
the rest is “just life”
gritty unglamorous and spiked
with moments of joy