BURN (Wattys2015?)

envy

she envies the other girls
they're graceful, flawless
thin
unlike her
in her own eyes
she's clumsy, flawed
fat

jealousy
ugly, twisted, raw
sneaks in quietly
whispering how better things
would be if you were them
if you had what they had
you soak it up
it drowns you
finding a way in
through your ever pore
your existence
lesser
inferior
flawed.

she can't help but notice
their smooth skin
like milk and coffee and tea
their lustful pouts
and luminous eyes
their button noses
and strong jawlines
their soft hair
always so perfect
why are they always so perfect?
and why is she always so
not?
long legs, thigh gaps
flat stomachs, hipbones
collarbones, full chests
small waist, big hips
like dolls
why is she so human?
too real, too fat, too ugly
all she wants
all she needs
is to be like them

less food, more exercise
more water, less fat
dieting, dieting
exercising, exercising
"you look so good"
"have you lost weight?"
"you're so pretty"
"I wish I could look like you"
so.close.to.perfection.
but like tantalus
perfection is just out of reach
she can feel it in her bones
(the ones starting to show)
perfection, flawlessness
like honey, gold and pure
sweet and rich
but no bees to make it

a mistake, maybe two
and then she's angry so angry
why did she mess up?
she ate too much
she didn't exercise
she can't be perfect with this food
rotting and festering and fattening her
inside her once empty stomach
she much purge herself of these demons
cleanse her body of the calorie plague
so down the throat a finger goes
and she does it so nobody knows
her secret
why didn't she try this earlier?
perfection comes at a price
and she's definitely willing to pay

time flies and the scales dip
she's always so cold now
she wears sweaters to hide her bones
because she still feels so fat
and ugly and vile and flawed
even though she looks like
the next gust of wind
could blow her away
(she wants to be blown away
to a happier place, a better place
a place where she is beautiful)
a newfound obsession
she thinks of herself
as a butterfly
but right now she's just a fat
and lumpy caterpillar
stuck in a cocoon
all the other butterflies have
hatched
except her
she's stuck
and only a shiny piece of metal
can free her
she much cut away through
all the nasty fat
to free herself from the cocoon
to escape her ugly, twisted, fat skin
and now she must cover
the butterflies that criss cross
her arms
and thighs
and stomach
too

it's always winter
she's always in long sleeves
and jeans
both baggy
she wants to shrink in them
hide away so the cruel, perfect, flawless
world won't see her
all those other girls who are
prettier, smarter, better
she's worthless
compared to them
worthless
to herself

finally
someone peeks
under the plastered smiles
and "yeah I'm okay"s
and they see just how thin
fragile
broken
she is
but she doesn't want them to help
not yet, please wait
I'm not perfect
but they tell her
that in her own eyes
she'll never be perfect
until she dies
whittled away by hate and self loathing
sleepless, starving nights
dissolved into nothing
and she cries
when she hears that
because she knows it's true
but the envy of perfection
has consumed her soul
(not enough body to take,
it's already taken so much)
she can't stop, won't stop
I AM NOT PERFECT, FLAWLESS, BEAUTIFUL
she screams

but her body
(what's left of it)
stops for her
organs shut down
her heart, so tired and broken and hurt
and hungry
seizes, shakes, and stops
the walking skeleton crumbles
as the sad, sad girl breathes
her last

envy seeps from her dead pores
slithering across the floor
looking for some other jealous soul
to consume

she never knew
the other girls weren't perfect
she couldn't grasp the fact
nobody is perfect
ever
everyone is flawed
and imperfection is what makes us
us
human
beautiful
she saw a warped version of herself
in the mirror
the mirror never lied
she lied to herself
she was never fat, ugly, vile
twisted, worthless, stupid
she was always so beautiful
so important
to me