WHAT'S WRONG WITH BODY SHAMING?
What's wrong with body shaming?
A question no one really asks,
But that doesn’t stop them from body shaming,
While they hide behind faceless masks.
Someone is considered too fat,
Someone is considered too thin.
Someone is too muscular
While someone is too lean.
The white marks on her stomach,
The white marks on her thighs,
The dark shadows under her eyes,
Her shoulders shaking as she cries.
She spits back words at the intruder,
The one who thinks they have a say in her life.
She's called rude by her parents, she's asked to shut up when she yells at her uncle,
I still don't know why.
There are drying cuts on his arms,
His body disphormia increases.
His abs never seem to be firm enough,
Every time he looks into a mirror, he flinches.
He winces, his gut wrenches,
And he's throwing up and his throat clenches,
He's tired, so tired.
But he still feels restless.
Her eyes closed shut as she struggles to take a glance,
At the sight reflected in the picture her friend posted last night,
Her hands go immediately to her stomach and she shifts and then stands,
And rushes over to the washroom, to throw up the remnants of her stomach.
Her waist looks tired, tired of constantly struggling to match an hourglass,
Her legs feel weak, they're tired of acting like they're still strong enough to hold her up,
Her head hurts, her insides scream, as she stiffles yet another scream,
A day is all she wishes for, when she doesn’t wake up doubting her body, a day when the people around her didn't act so mean, but she can only dream.
His fingers and his knuckles,
Flaunt countless scars,
His once plump lips, so chapped and dry,
His shirt hangs loose, the collar supporting his untied tie,
His pants low around his waist,
He regrets making decisions, that have consequences he's scared to face,
But he swallows down the bile rising in his throat,
As he sets foot into the field.
Another day he'll walk home exhausted, lying that his friend dropped him off,
Another day spent without a meal.
Every snide remark from a relative, a snarky classmate, a stranger on the street,
Sets the time bomb inside these people's minds off, and they're scared to breathe,
They're scared of mirrors, scared of pictures, scared of everything that makes them feel,
That their bodies are so imperfect, so ugly,
Because of people who pass comments, without knowing exactly what it means..
To the person on the receiving end
As the remarks hit and they fail to fend,
And every unthoughtful comment does nothing but send,
That wrong message into their head
And they question, they question, every choice they've ever made,
That wedding they attended because they knew the food would be great,
That party they didn’t miss, even though it started late.
Every word is a weapon, a papercut that never heals,
Every day filled with self doubt, buts and ifs,
And even when they're almost healed, a hand rips off the upper skin,
This extra pressure to be the perfect size, a bit more thick, a bit more thin.
Body shaming is a process,
A long drawn out process, that starts and ends abruptly,
But the scars on her wrist and the scars in her chest,
They never heal, they never heal, the pain stays raw, when it's from within.
A/N
First author's note so far, most of the stuff in this book is pretty shorr but I've put im some slam poetry that I wrote as well.