I’m okay,
I silently repeat,
Over and over again,
telling myself, I don’t care,
Trying to make myself not think,
Sometimes I can’t help it though,
How come I’m never enough?
The scars on my thighs and wrist suddenly shining brighter than most things people know me for.

I think often times my own fiancé, even questions why I’m insecure,
Mostly his POV is “she’s so beautiful”,
Her smile brightens my day,
I know she’s hurting, but I just wish I can take it all the way.

I hide my face when someone tries to take a picture of me,
I Drown myself in make up,
To try and get my flaws to go away.
Nothing seems to work though.
What more can I do to try to be pretty?

My thighs are too big,
My arms are a little fat,
My feet are chubby.


I don’t think I’m enough because there’s rolls on my body in places there shouldn’t be.
I mean, there’s always these questions, hitting me back and forth nonstop every day. What more can I do to prove that I’m pretty.

Are you sure you wanna eat that?
Put it down,
Don’t eat,
Once on the lips,
Forever on the hips,
They always tell me that.
Come on Alex you’re not fat, or skinny, but either way you’re still ugly.
I hate myself,
I stare at my reflection in the mirror every day,
I hate myself,
Again and again,
“You’re not fat you’re just too curvy”
But they say so many things,
Come on Alex, eat, don’t be afraid you’re just going to gain a little more weight.

But my hips are too wide,
My thighs are too big,
My stomach is too big,
I am too big.
What more can I do to be pretty?

And again,
Come on Alex eat,
Oh, never mind don’t eat that you’ll only get bigger.

But if I starve it’s a crime,
I try to minimize my meals to once a day ,
But if someone I live with sees me eat something even if it’s the first time in a eating that day,
“You’re eating again?” you’re trying to get fat aren’t you?

I exercise when I can’t even when I do the weight it is still there.

One more can I do to try to feel skinny,
To look skinny,
What more can I do to try and be pretty.