A poem for girls 14-20 years old, the ones in the world who need a bit of help and love |
Dear girls 14-20 years old, do you hate me even more than the mirror in the morning? do you glare me down even more than you do your own friends? Let me tell you that you can kick and you can scream, or hide behind your money and the flaws of others, but you will never win this self-inflicted siege that is crashing down on the youth of this world. But you can't just give in either. Because if you stop fighting to end this, then nobody will be more than the price of their makeup. So the next time that you give into the power of self-flagellation that wages war on only yourself, remember these words that I speak to you: Hair-straighteners and eye-dying contacts will not earn you your satisfactory. Drop the show of being effortlessly perfect and golden. It will only lead to crumbling. Stop turning a grain of sand into an ocean of emotion. People don’t mind being a shoulder for your tears until they’re just a stain on your gallery of prideful pity sobs. Don’t be the reason that young girls pump themselves full of plastic and distort their gifted bodies into cracking, clay deformities. And don’t be the one who does either. Being fake means that you are not real. It means you have no value. And that’s all we really want: value. So stop! For throwing up your food will only lead you to purging your personality. Instead, fill up your empty perfume bottles with encouraging passages of love unbroken. Only then can we can learn to make time And with that time we fix the mess that we have made. And then we can learn to love eachother again. |