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Skinny legs, bigger breasts are all they want to see.
Tiny waists and thinner arms, the opposite of me.
The pressure to be perfect is slowly closing in,
An utter suffocation that doesn’t seem to end.
Society is telling me, beautiful is thin,
And if I choose to starve myself perfection is what I win.
Shoving something down my throat, will get me what I want.
Bring me closer to that goal, of a body I can flaunt.
Society is telling us, beauty is a prize,
Measured in the size of your breasts, in weight and clothing size.
But let me tell you here and now, no good will come of that.
It seems okay at first, but soon becomes a trap.
A disease that clouds the mind, and believes what is untrue,
Believes you’re never good enough, no matter what you do.
There is only one beauty that I know, it’s the greatest prize of all.
It’s learning to accept yourself,