A Piece by xThePineappleGirlx
How was I supposed to know?
How was I supposed to know that the only reason I was born was for others to enjoy looking at me? How was I supposed to know that every time I would walk out the door, people would judge me, expecting me to be how they want me to be? How could I have possibly known that I was only here for the pleasure of others? How could I have even imagined that people wouldn't make fun of me because my body isn't exactly the same as every other 'hot' girl out there?
They tell me I should be myself. Tell me how beautiful I am. Then they tell me I shouldn't eat. That I've had enough. They give me glass, and tell me to eat that instead. At least that way I'll be pretty on the outside.
The cuts on the inside never mattered, anyway.
Why would I be beautiful for myself? That's an absolutely atrocious thought. My body is like a painting, only there for criticism and aesthetic pleasure. I'm only here to look good for others, after all.
Right...?
This short and impactful piece is by the beautiful Laylaa.