Yet again I’m the one that never gets picked or given a chance,
thrown aside, whilst my words as I try to speak
are lost in transmission

Society tells me that I am not pretty enough.
But my skin colour does not define who I am,
my dress size should not have to shrink to suit the mode.
If I am not ‘perfect’ in society’s eyes, I am not defined as ‘normal’.

Walking through the hallways
scared that someone is going to throw words at me,
words that will rip me open,
words of abuse spat at my face,
words dripping down my face.
Sometimes I wish the words wouldn’t cut so deep into my skin so many times,
my flesh can’t heal, I can’t take it, I can’t take it.
I keep it all in and carry on like normal
hoping no one senses my sadness,
my pain, my hurt.
I pretend the support helped but all it did was help to hide the pain well.

Society tells me that I am not tall enough,
that my thighs are PLUS size,
that my belly is NOT flat enough,
that my eyes are NOT a nice colour,
that my lips are TOO big,
that my teeth are TOO small.
Society …who is society and what does he or she look like?
That is a mystery that no one knows

I fear that the rumors will never stop ,
never disappear.
Soon my name will be dancing from tongue to tongue
and slipping from ear to ear.
If their words don’t cut deep enough, paranoia will consume my soul ,
forcing me to destroy my outer body
leaving me defeated in society’s eyes,
another one of it’s victims,
mocked and devoured by people trying to make me fit into
society’s check list