Sunday, 6 May 2012

Beautiful Bodies

Shopping with girlfriends or at the hairdressers',

Flipping through magazines as I get my hair done

Page after page of glossy perfection

Sensuous curves and caramel skin so soft,
Image after image

Mocking me, calling me names

One places me in the ‘before’ selling distant dreams of a beautiful ‘after’

Dreams contained in big bottles and labelled lotions, 

My skin needs lightening, body some tightening or,

they reveal, I face a future so bleak-

Men’s rejection, collapsing careers and eventual dejection

I can’t look at the mirror no more

That image is not me

It’s an ugly monster I’ve created

Done with this Frankenstein

Time to change

Throw out all Chips and chocolates,

The cheese in my spaghetti, sugar in my tea

Push out carbs too-out you go potatoes

My body is in my hands and I am its sculptor

Carving those curves, perfecting that pout

I feel good - I must be beautiful now!

A glance at the magazines- a broken heart

The images look thinner,

Eyes brighter, lips fuller

Skin flawless with that ever present glow

My shame burns me

Why can’t I be like them?

I sit at the table

Boiled vegetables on my plate

Stuff myself and then run to the toilet

A finger down my throat

Out comes it all


Some calories down the drain!

An evolving competition

Me and those calculating calories till death do us apart

Tiredness treads in now

But that’s a good sign!

I must be on my way

Hopes high I head to my ally

'Mirror Mirror on the wall- who's the thinnest of them all?'

no lies, hidden truths no more

Deep breath, eyes open and I see

A whale

A big ugly whale

Frustration. Anger.

If perfection eludes me,

I must step up my game.

Pit stop and I pick up some pills

Now  guaranteed a fine future ahead

I take them- 1,2,3 at a time

Day after day, week after week,

My body now starved, some pills popped,

I feel different. My body's not mine,

Instead a dying corpse

A sculptor’s worst nightmare

His masterpiece shattering in his hands.

In my race to perfection, I’d forgotten

That perfection, didn’t exist

Not in this world.

I wasn’t the lie, it was the image

Starved models make up caked,

Living lies,

Photo-shoots then photoshopped

Altered curves and concealed spots

Plastic smiles then painted on

Creating a fantasy; destroying million others

And mine.

So I take a step back and let my body speak for itself

It tells me to stop, this torture unbearable,

And look within

While my body starved, my soul did too

In the pursuit of perfection, I'd lost not one but two

The trails were testing and it took me some time

But I turned to the one who is perfect and he sorted it out

Cracks mended and tears stitched

I've prayed and the answer was lucid

To look beyond the body and go for the soul

This I shall polish and let shine for the world

The Creator created me this way and so it shall remain

I'm beautiful and so are you.

1 comment:

  1. A poem that perfectly vocalizes all my thoughts on the subject, much much better than I could have done with them. I love this! :)