My sister learned from me
What lip gloss to choose,
How to pay her dues,
To smile when she doesn't want to.
She learned from me,
The old camp songs,
And sing-alongs.
What to do with a day that's too long.
She learned from me those random Spanish words.
Taught herself to eavesdrop on me, while I listen in on her.
Her smug smile, too natural to be overturned.
But she learned from me to think she's fat.
I taught her that.
Standing in the mirror, studying my lines,
That sad look in my eyes,
I must've been there 30 million times.
Little did I see,
Little used-to-be me,
In the background, watching.
"I'm fat." she says,
Her little six-year-old tummy exposed,
Pulling up the pink tee, that matches her toes,
The ones she painted herself.
That sick feeling in me comes down off the shelf.
"I did this." I think.
Teacher to be, and I taught this.
I studied to make us study ourselves,
Under glass so thick,
Even I can't tell when I'll stop it.
America's in a crisis,
but everyone wants to drop it.
"We're the greatest country in the world!",
Until our girls look in the mirror.
We are free alright, by law, but slaves to fear,
Of putting on a couple pounds,
Because then our "appeal" will go down,
Right?
That's why we fight?
That's why we starve for no reason, while poverty breeds,
Because being skinny is all that "perfect" needs,
To be achieved.
I taught her that.
Sure I don't abuse or slap,
But I taught her that.
That it's okay to be prisoner to yourself,
As long as you are desired by everyone else.
"You're not fat" I say "and neither am I"
But I hesitate, the second part feels like a lie.
I can deny, and deny, and deny,
Won't stop me from comparing myself, when a model's ad catches my eye.
So proud the day the doctor came,
Said I'm in the twentieth percentile for weight for my height,
Still didn't feel right,
Stomach still not small enough or tight,
Like I want it to be.
Free but not free.
That's what you get when you listen to society.
So I don't like sports,
Doesn't mean I'm a dork,
So I don't enjoy working out,
Doesn't mean I'm a "cow".
I believe everyone is beautiful the way they are,
Except for me,
Been this way, and getting worse, since I was thirteen
Do I want her to be like that?
Do I want her to be worse that that?
Ribs showing, like some stray cat?
Hunched over a toilet bowl,
Cutting down on calories becomes her only goal.
I don't ever want her to get that old.
Don't look at the magazines,
Don't count out all the calories,
Don't be me at fifteen and sixteen,
Don't be worse.
"You're incredibly skinny"
I told her that.
Because all that matters is that,
Right?
Seven years old,
She's got a future so bright.
Mom says "actions speak louder than words "
Never knowing everything that's going on with her girl.
Her American girl, born and razed,
By society , and all her superficial deities.
I guess you can call me hypocrite,
Because I'm still not over it,
Standing in the mirror,
Studying those lines of mine,
Still imperfect in my mind,
For the unknown millionth of an unknown million times.