My apparition
like a shadow
haunting me
night after night.

Keeping me up night after night.
Putting me through agony,
I can’t make anyone happy-
especially myself.  

Unable to bear the pain anymore.
I try to help my self.
I can’t.
so embarrassed-
Thighs are too big, cellulite, stomach’s not flat.
so ashamed-
Boobs aren’t big enough, don’t do anything to better myself.
Have to keep silent.

The illusion of being perfect,
the perfect skin–
Soft, acne free, smooth.
perfect hair–
Soft, long, voluminous. 
perfect body–
Flat stomach, no cellulite, no jiggling.
No one knows the pressure women put on themselves
The pressure to starve–
to be perfect.

Swindling food from their bodies
While Society Stares
at them with dirty looks.
Imagining them “perfect.”

Stop caring what people think!

Walt Whitman made me realize
“I exist as I am, That is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware, I sit content.”