Dear Society,
We are always told not to judge a book by it's cover yet
Sweetheart you are left in the haze to graze for 
A Perfect look of a lover,
Judgement on the size of her thighs.
Because you determine the right body weight
Pause with wide eyes to see what's on her plate
She’s TOO fat,
She’s TOO skinny,
She wears TOO much make-up,
She bears TOO much pain
She holds a knife in her hand
Trying to get through the plastic of a barbie doll
But the string is elastic pulling her back from it all
The knife carves the word as a brand
On the front cover of her personal book
It all started with the hook
You only took what had the least pages
But you cease to understand
What I have planned
Because when I commit suicide
You will be the
First to take Pride in knowingly
Reading my Poetry