All my life I struggled with my weight.
I couldn't buy this jean,
I looked too big in it
I couldn't go to the beach
Cause wear a swimsuit was impossible
Every time I was eating something
I felt this wave of guilt in my heart
These eyes judging me
Judging the way my body turned...
I was skinny and as I was growing up
My body changed
It changed so much
I coudn' recognize myself
I felt like a cow
I felt like I wasn't attractive anymore
I felt like I was useful
My face wasn't enough
I needed that body
That magazine body
With kardashian curves
Skinny arms
Big ass
Thin tights
Big boobs
Apparent ribs
And above all, abs...
When you're not okay with yourself
When all people see in you is a fat girl
You lose yourself
You lose your confidence
You lose everything
Once I was into my phase :
gym
Diet
Throwing up
And once I was into :
I'm fat, fuck it
Eating amounts of food
Just to feel full
To feel something
To be happy
To forget the lack of everything
The lack of friendship
The lack of love
The lack of self confidence
The lack of beauty
The lack of what a woman needs to fulfill her passions
At the end,
I'm judging myself more than anyone does
My self-hate was killing me inside
Everytime I saw my body in a mirror
And worse, in a picture
I was swallowing my vomit
I was like « why me? »
What do I have to change to become the one I want to be ?
What do I have to change to be loved ?
What do I have to change to be enough ?
What do I have to change to be like the others ?
What do I have to change to live with myself ?
What do I have to fucking do ?
What ?
What...
Just tell me.
They say there's no perfect body,
No zero size
No unique beauty
No perfect shape
But all they do is producing the same fake dolls
In every music clip
Every pictures
Every catwalk
Every insta pic
All they do is lying...
I only see thin girls around
How I am supposed to feel beautiful ?
Hours spent crying in front of my mirror
Hours spent hating myself
Hours spent telling myself I will never be skinny
I just want to be normal.
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Écrire pour exister
PoetryParfois tout ce qu'il nous reste c'est les mots. Notre cerveau ne nous trahira jamais et j'ai décidé d'en faire mon arme secrète. J'écris, j'écris, j'écris. Plus je pense, plus j'écris et plus j'écris plus je me sens légère. Il y a un peu de tout...
