I always wanted to be someone else

And could never could accept myself

Every day I would cringe

All that hate I would binge

On my own reflection

And feel all that rejection

That my brain would inflect upon

Me And the pain my heart adds on

That, why wasn’t I perfect like those models?

That silky smooth skin that everyone dawdles

Or those perfect skinny legs and hands

With all their tucked in glands

While I had scars running throughout my body

As a proof for me to say I am not worthy

All this deprivation makes me eat more

And believe less in that someone can adore

Me for just the way I am

And I try my best to shed those grams

get myself to that standard of perfection

and that highly celebrated complexion

and I force and force and force

myself into all that products that endorse

that I need to use them to make myself better

and I realized I never received that love letter

addressing me myself and I that

I was perfect, isn’t that right?

by Bhargavi Ravi

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