Sierra Demulder
One
Dear Ana,
The truth is
I would never speak to a child the way I speak to myself.
I would never tell a 4-year-old that she looked fat,
That no one will ever love her.
Ana, picture yourself as a little girl.
Two
There is nothing empowering about lessening yourself.
You are a vanishing act,
Your body's the magic hat; Pulling out nothing,
Your body is a clothing rack,
You body is my favourite sweater shrunk in the dryer.
Three
Dear mothers of Hollywood,
Mothers of the red carpet and the ten pounds the camera adds,
How will your daughter ever learn to love her body if she is forced to watch you wring out yours?
Will you tell her "less is more",
Less is more,
Less is more,
Less I know more,
Less I know more,
Or less I learn how to love myself?
Four
Hair loss is a side affect of bulimia,
If you're so hell bent on losing your hair, Ana,
Here are the scissors, Here is the razor.
Why don't you shave it?
Why don't you donate it it?
Why don't you braid me a fucking scarf?
Five
You are a beautiful martyr,
Your are a knuckle-kissing saint,
You are a mother bird and we are all your children,
And we are so hungry.
We want to see a staircase around your lungs.
We want to hang ornaments from your collarbone.
We want nothing to do with your softness.
Six
The don't show big girls in the magazines like they are afraid to show men what childbirth looks like.
It is too real, it is too bloody.
Seven
Dear first world,
What a privilege it is to hate our bodies.
To suffocate in skin, or shuck ourselves from the inside out,
We can afford to eat too much, or too little,
No leftovers.
No leftovers.
No I left over.
Know that I left over.
Know that I love what is left of me.
Eight
Dear Ana,
When your loved ones carry your coffin will they doubt there's a body in there? Like an empty suitcase,
A silent instrument-
Nine
I too have pulled at my torso.
I too have imagined hemming my body, folding it in on itself.
I suck it in,
I suck it in,
I turn off the lights before I let him love me-
Ten
Ana, picture yourself as a little girl,
Now tell her she is not good enough.
Tell her she is ugly.
When she comes to you hungry,
Do not feed her.
Eleven
Your body is not a temple.
Your body is the house you grew up in.
How dare you try to burn it to the ground?
How dare you think that you are anything but gorgeous,
You are bigger than this,
You are bigger than this.
Twelve
Dear Ana, you are swallowing yourself,
Your voice is so small.
