We strive to paint a new identity onto our face.
We strive to bear curves that shield shame.
We strive to strut down hallways in twig-bodies.
We indulge on flawless because
We think that praising raw cacao syllables
Will change us to who we want to be.
Skinny and tall,
Bewitching and bare,
Curvy and colorless.
We're too consumed by magazine photos
To realize the aftertaste of what we thought was chocolate.
We inhale the media's adoration for these
And convince ourselves that we are what they are and they are
They say beauty is hidden within.
How ironic that is.