for her
I will move on
for her
I will grow
for her,
the happy little girl I once was with eyes full of wonder and a heart full of love.
for the little girl I grew from,
the one I still am inside,
the little girl who only wanted joy.
for her I will be better.

today I looked at my mom and saw the little girl beneath, the little girl just like me, trying to make it through life, pretending to be grown.

A stranger knocks at my door-
I opened it and saw,
Loneliness standing in front of me,
Saying, “Hello, old friend."

I meet and read about girls who are sweet and carefree,
strong and independent, kind, smart, determined,
oblivious and lazy too,
each one unique with their own flaws, each one amazing and every one of them, beautiful in their own way.

I read about girls who are, oh, so, much like me,
women I admire, and women I adore, women who are made to be seen and heard never judged.
but why don't I see myself as my own women?

For some reason,
I often hear girls speak this treason:
"I'm so fat"

no.
No.
nO.
NO.
NO!

You're skinny. You're in shape!
Next to me, you look like a stick.
I'M fat. I'm a big round rock.
But who cares? Why care?
Some of us are fat. Some of us are thinner.
why's must we worry and
detest our selves because of how we look?
we are more than just our bodies.
we are hearts. we are souls. we are human.
we are broken, scarred and beautiful

the
greed
of
men
will
never
be
satisfied
and
we
will
never
be
enough