Stars
celestial objects-
the guidelines for the constellations
I draw on my skin.

Their name,
is put to shame by your use of it
as an adjective.

I look up to the stars,
but you,
look up to the stars.
Idols of fake beauty and lies,
they are the reason girls hate their bodies,
you are the reason girls starve themselves.

My constellations,
are maps,
and constellation
is not always a metaphor for self harm,
These maps guide me through life,
record every bit of pain
sorrow
and laughter
and all the wisdom that comes out of it.
When I die,
My maps will be passed on the next generation,
tell me
are your stars even sober enough to connect?

So lather on the make up,
straighten your hair,
I know you
want to be just like them.

But when my universe formed,
there just wasn't enough room for your stars.