An Illusion

I’m a very emotional person. I feel deeply, love deeply, think deeply, and empathize incredibly deeply. One way in which I choose to channel these emotions is through writing, specifically poetry. This was written in an analysis of my own views of myself, as well as how others’ views of themselves are shaped and twisted by the world around us, a society that profits off of our longing to be “better.” But there is no need to be better when what you transcend that longing…


For so long,

I failed to recognize my own beauty

Jealousy crowding my being –

Staring at others, trying to find

Some code

Some secret diet,

Some mathematical equation

That would solve the illusion



My thoughts.


So wrapped around

Every cell

That the only equation I could solve


Self love = confusion.



Because 4th grade me,

Innocent and undeserving

Of this delusion –

She thought it was cool

To suck in

Her stomach

Around boys.


Because 7th grade me

Entangled with delusion –

The best compliment she’d

Received was,

“That shirt makes you look skinny.”


Because skinny was in


Perpetuating the idea

Of happiness,

Dieting + doubt =  corporations making money


Thick skin?

Who wants to be associated

With anything thick

When we are all classically

Conditioned to believe

Skinny is healthy

Skinny is pretty

Skinny is what you

Need to achieve

We must look good, or face exclusion.


Who needs health

When corporations

Are full of wealth

But all you’re full of is

Diet pills

And self loathing



Rotting hope,

Dripping into our bones

As an IV

Feeding all of us

That are diagnosed with

Just wanting to be good enough.


The  sharp scream

Of self-esteem,

Cracking like broken bones

Echoes through my conscience


Systematically instilling

A sense of

Mediocrity, obtrusion.


With every judgement

Flows a mere sense

Of confusion –

Another stab at the

Mangled image you have of


Now dripping with crimson red



Disregarding the

Effervescent cells,

Fighting for that mangled



Disregarding the fact

That no mathematical equation

Will solve this misconception.


Disregarding the fact that


A six letter,

Two syllable word

Has no right to dissemble

Your sovereignty.


You are more than a word,

More than the ephemeral


Of yourself,

Worth more than anything

You could imagine


Because corporation’s wealth

Has no match against

Your preeminent health –


Something more than a fad

Something more than

A few calories and

Some fitspiration

Something more than

Just saying






When all your eyes are



Help me,

I’m tired of this



I never thought I needed


Aren’t abs and

A toned body


Get me out of this



Because saying you’re


Is easier than climbing

Piles of broken bones

Soaked in delusion.




Okay isn’t enough.


It won’t be enough

Until you’re standing

On that pile of

Broken bones

With the strength



Over some sort of dreary



In seclusion,

Will you let this misconstrued


Lead you to action of

Admonition or



You are not


You’re insightful,


An indomitable creation of


And passion,

In which comparison of

Oneself to


Concludes in inept examination.


There is no code,

No mathematical equation.


There is just you,


An undeniable light of beauty,

Tangled    in    graceful    effusion.

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