Who the fuck is she. Why does she stand there with her hair uneven and last nights mascara clumped together on her eyelashes. Why do her long sleeves fail to cover the cuts and scars streaming down them like a waterfall, why do her tears feel hot; like wax dripping off a candle. Why do her stretch marks look like a tigers stripes, marking her upper thighs as a destination sign for the men who want to fuck her. Her collarbones, finally starting to protrude deeper by the day, because she counted her calories for months until she was satisfied with chewing gum, an apple and overconsumption of water. Why is her face starting to grey, the once subtle indents of her cheeks now look sharp and angular- she looks like a Disney character, less glamorous though. Her eyebrows untamed, for she uses the excuse that it hurts too much to upkeep them regularly- however remains unbothered by swiping a blade across her pale, soft skin. Why is she broken? Who did this to her? Why is she unhappy with the way her thighs are shaped and the length of her hair, is it because of the magazines she used to sneak a peak at whilst her mother wasn't looking- or the thinsperation photos she would oversee her older sister looking at. Is she damaged, or is she waiting for an epiphany that she is beautiful. That whether the scale reads 9"2 or 8"1, she will never know how she really looks. But that's the thing. Who the fuck is she? Nobody. She is nobody because people classed her as a slut for sleeping with men she fell too quickly for. She is nobody because she is mocked for wearing long sleeves in summer, even though they would laugh and point at her wounds if she dared to wear regulation wear. She is nobody because she defended herself against the man who grabbed her ass in the shop, she embarrassed him because she dared to question his authority over her. His dominance meant nothing to her. She was nothing because her father drilled into her at a young age that she was nothing but a mans toy for pleasure, never speak unless she is spoken to and never argue back. She would deserve the hurt and pain of being cheated on because she wasn't sexually desirable enough because she, unfortunately wasn't like her sister- tall blonde, skinny with a thigh gap but large boobs and straight glossy hair (which all the men adored, disgustingly so, this included her father as she was his "sexy" little girl);instead she was the chubby child with rosy cheeks and tight curls, no defined figure or body type except from being average. And she hated it, her own father said she was too fat to be beautiful, and if she stopped eating like a pig she would no longer resemble one. But it wasn't her fault she was taken advantage of by the man she loved, because she loved him- and he loved her. And that was the way it is meant to be, right? She is his baby, his slut, his princess. His world- but as long as the sleeves are down and her makeup looks pretty, she's perfect. She isn't broken, she is worthy of love; of his love.
