54 posts
  • loftydreams101 14w

    Faults in the Illusion

    Deflated in the aftermath
    Of my selfish struggle
    This war scorches on
    Raising plumes of denial
    For the kind eyes of strangers
    The stray remarks of travelers,
    The graze of their affections
    Feed an ever burning sorrow
    I hold on to every praise
    Through the onslaught of memory
    When the outer world is silent
    And my inner phantoms stalk
    I hold on
    Dragged under
    By their fearful thrash
    I hold on
    For the weight,
    For the strain
    And fading glory

    © 2022 William Wright, Jr.

  • away_with_words 33w

    @writersnetwork @miraquill

    Being happy with the way you look says more about you than it does about the way you look.

    #selfesteem #bodyimage #character #beauty #truth #positive

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    Being happy with
    the way you look

    says more about you
    than it does about the way you look.

  • lostgirl0713 70w

    Sticks&stones can break my bones, words ARE what hurt me.

    One second you are proud of me. The next you hate me. I know you try so hard to break me. Why? Im unsure. Is it because you wanted so bad to be my friend instead of my mother? Do you regret all the things that took place in my life? My mental health had no chance of turning out anywhere close to "normal." What is normal anyways? You wanted to be the cool mom, the one that had it easy. All of the fears and worries of abandonment, rejection, and failure. They formed because my childhood was taken away from me. By the time i was 12 years old I had my belly button pierced and formed a close relationship with bulemia. My body image was disgusting. No matter how much i binged and purged, i still wasn't What the world labeled as skinny. I tried so hard to achieve that thigh gap...tried so hard to see my ribcage and delete the roll in my stomach when i sat down. To others around me..i am seeking attention they say...in reality i just want to fit in. I want to feel like i am worth something instead of feeling like absolutely nothing. This fucked up world we live in forms this idea of what body image is wanted and screams that a few extra pounds is disgusting. So i binged...stuffing my face.. Full to the point i felt like i was going to explode...i reach for the toothbrush to put in the back of my throat...just enough to make me gag.. Within seconds. I was ridding my body of the full feeling. Disgusting. I cant stand that feeling.

  • light_ofthe_heart 72w

    My Body Image

    When I look at me physically
    This thought comes at once
    Your soul is beautiful even if your body isn't
    Maybe as a way of making me feel better
    But the words from bystanders
    Has a great way of making me feel dejected
    And I just lose that person I got hold of.

    What does he think when he sees me?
    Do I look good enough for him?
    Can he show me to the world?
    Does he honestly want me this way?
    Does my body hinder the growth of us?
    These are questions I keep having for him thinking it in silence

    How best can I portray my body
    I mostly become lost in thought
    Should I go for exercises maybe
    Dieting is another option
    But all that isn't really possible
    Because I am a foodie and love to lazy around.

    Well I guess I fell out of love for you body
    With the beautiful mind within this choked up fat
    And I fell in love with the idea of the bystanders
    Who knew nothing about self-love and appreciation
    Yet, they speak as if they are all perfect on the inside and out

    So dear body image of mine
    I want to tell you that you are beautiful and I love you
    I don't show it always, but you mean a lot to me
    So when you feel down from the words of the bystanders
    Know that you are my identity and I find hope in you
    Because you are me and you wouldn't have been better than you are

  • pi_infinite 72w

    A wish to the mirror on my wall

    I wish that my body
    Finally felt like my own.
    I wish I could stop
    Obsessively tucking
    At the soft of my sides
    With fingertips stained
    To the bone with judgement
    Leaving hurtful marks
    On aging skin.
    I wish I could stop
    Analyzing myself
    As if numbers could ever
    Do justice to a body,
    Wish I could stop
    Weaponizing the disappointment
    And hate of others
    Against my own reflection,
    Wish I could show myself kindness,
    Wish I could overcome
    The indoctrination
    Of my socialization.
    I wish I could start
    Showing love to myself
    Like I do to the world
    And everyone else,
    I wish I could look
    Into a mirror
    And recognize myself,
    Be happy to see
    That I am doing fine.
    I wish that one day
    I will finally learn
    To appreciate my curves,
    My asymmetries,
    And above all,
    My humanity.


  • authoraarav 79w


  • miracle___ 80w


    I can't walk down the street without covering head to feet.
    Not because I'm forced to but because I'm scared that the world would see my defects.
    From my scars to my hip dips
    And my legs to my thighs

    I stop to breathe when people stare at my scars.
    I freeze when they notice my flaws.
    Still, I try to act to act normal.
    Like everything is okay.
    Like I love my body.
    Like I'm comfortable in my own skin.

    Literally, I feel like sinking into a black hole.
    I wish the earth would open up and swallow me.

    My throat is tied and my anxiety shoots up faster than a meteorite burning me up using up all my energy.

    Leaving me wondering,
    "will I ever be good enough?"

  • miracle___ 79w


    Why do you hate your reflection so much, Maria?
    Why do you forcefully vomit your food when no one looks, Maria?
    So you take laxatives to get your food out too, Maria?
    Why do you fake a smile, Maria?
    Why do you cut yourself at night, Maria?
    Why do you scrape your scars and let them bleed in the bathtub, Maria?
    Why do you talk in a fake high pitch, Maria?
    Why do you cover your teeth when you laugh, Maria?
    Why do you try so hard to be perfect, Maria?
    Those cyanide pills are for what, Maria?
    Why do you put on so much makeup just to please, Maria?
    Why do you scroll through Instagram with tears scrolling through your eyes, Maria?
    These magazines have become your scripture?
    So, Maria you're falling asleep in class?
    And your hair is falling out?
    And you have lost so much blood?
    The lines on your thighs, stomach and wrists, how did you get them?

    Open your eyes

    Stay with me
    Wake up, Maria.



  • londonmongrel 95w


    Eye see you standing over there
    No one nose our secret.
    Your lips pursed like fresh fruit.
    Earnings cast small shadows down your neck.
    You are head and shoulders above the rest. Our love like a game of chess(chest).
    I trace kisses down your stomach.
    You hold me down like legs on a chair.
    6 feet deep.
    Toe me along.

  • thecelestialmaiden 97w

    The Camera Adds 10 Pounds

    "You're beautiful"
    "You're amazing"
    "You're pretty"
    It's nice to listen, but nowadays, it sounds like pity
    I view such words under the shadows of a dark past
    I know it's been so long,
    I know you believe the damage shouldn't this long, last
    Words irresponsible, said years ago,
    Still stare back at me in the mirror
    "Ugly, unwanted, unworthy" they whisper
    Until my eyes shine with a tear's lustre.
    I know someone once said, "The camera adds 10 pounds"
    Over the years, the mirror turned my camera,
    And everyday, I felt worse looking into it.
    Until 10 turned 100, and now I've lost count,
    Thin, Fat, whatever I was, the world didn't look past,
    I later found out.
    "Beautiful, pretty" your words still echo,
    My mind's so burried in the 10 pounds into multiple days
    I'm hidden, I'm crying, I'm choking. Help me! I can't seem to let my past go.

  • expresso 101w

    You are Not your


  • alxita 107w

    ~~ Two Sides, Two Lives ~~

    Locked up in the bedroom, the clock moving ¹counter-clockwise; the other self plays behind the crystalline glass. ²Dubious ​​and ³equivocal as it is, no matter how much their tears flow, it still cannot erase the past, and may just flood themselves in their own secretions.

    ​​Still glancing at the mirror. Who is that figure? Two inches away? Two decades away? ⁴Convalesced by drinking the blood that soothed the senses, and the figure still imitates upon the person's actions. Tears, if bottled up, make the world's oceans we know of. Skin, if cut all way, still bleeds the red blood. ⁵Dithyrambs and a million miles away, will never reach to the receiver's ears.

    Why? ​​When the rocks tend to be the most ⁶illaudable, we still cry, because the rocks scratch us by the unpleasant ⁷rambunctiousness of it. We tend to cry things off, right? Except the fact that we can't cry out the blood that has leaked out from the scratch areas.

    ⁸​​Juvenescence speaks from the mouths of the other side of the mirror, because that identity remembers its true self at the other side that growing up is still phases away from stopping. We are still consuming our energies away until the infinite becomes ⁹finite. Oh life.. Is it imbuing upon us a sense of ¹⁰misoneism?

    ​​All the unpleasant thoughts collected, and ¹¹pervaded like the seeds spread and germinated into the its blossom of life. Well, sometimes the flowers of ours never blooms right. Seasons pass by our room, and nothing changes.

    Will you still be looking at the mirror? Question the body that has turned ¹²haywire from the ¹³dissonant musics of life? Question the fact that your self and the mirrored self is two inches away, and two decades away?

    Questions and not a single one has ever been answered. Will someone be listening? That's because it is us that will answer such questions.​​​​ The mirrored self still wanders away into the clouded depths of thoughts, while the true self, lies just ground level with life's mechanisms.
    -- VOCABULARY --

    1 | counter-clockwise - moving opposite as from the usual rotation of the clock's hands
    2 | dubious - giving rise to uncertainty
    3 | equivocal - (similar to word no. 2)
    4 | convalesce - to recover, as from a condition
    5 | dithyramb - a formal expression of praise
    6 | illaudable - deserving no praise
    7 | rambunctious - having uncontrollable exuberance
    8 | juvenescence - the state of being youthful
    9 | finite - of a limited amount; not infinite
    10 | misoneism - the hatred or fear of innovation or change
    11 | pervade - to spread throughout
    12 | haywire - going wrong or out of order
    13 | dissonant - marking disharmony

    -- SUMMARY --

    Insecurity tends to make us look upon ourselves to a mirror, reflecting such. But, the mirror reflects upon you a future reality that you can always pursue with if you be confident enough with yourself, and overcoming hardships in life.

    The mirror was metaphorized here by my own perspective.

    #standup #hope #reality #uncertainty #life #mirror #bodyimage #hardships #challenge #mirakee #alxitadailythoughts #alxita_july_twenty #ceesreposts #pod

    Jul. 24, 2020, 5:31 PM (GMT+8)

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  • dennessajm 111w

    You have to love yourself, before you can love somebody else.


  • ifynoella 112w

    I am more afraid to loose the right people, than the wrong ones.

  • ifynoella 112w

    Body Image

    How we feel about our bodies is equal to how we feel about ourselves.

    Therefore, have a positive image of yourself.

    ©Uliakpusi Ifunanya

  • miss_lyra 119w


    Pustules populate my pink face
    From a young age
    Their army gets stronger
    50 caliber Zits show up,
    creating havoc on the
    planes of my complexion
    I've conduct chemical warfare,
    Tretinoin, Benzoyl Peroxide, Salicylic Acid
    Nothing stops them!
    Slowly, some leave lasting battle scars on my cheeks
    from battles lost to my pudgy fingers.

    What will heal this no man's land from the years of destruction but time?

  • pi_infinite 127w

    Anger - towards these thoughts, towards the expectations imposed on me, towards myself for being so weak.
    #body #parasite #bodyimage #society #expectations

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    My body doesn't feel like it's mine
    Instead, it feels like a parasite
    And I wish I could cut
    Some parts off with a knife
    Not to hurt myself
    But to finally feel
    Like the person I am
    Who I'm meant to be
    Who they want me to be
    Who I wish I was
    Who I'll never be.
    And it turns to aggression
    That poisons my thoughts -
    How can I ever laugh
    If a battle is fought
    Every time that I move
    And remember my looks
    And that I am "too much"
    To ever be good?

  • pyro_sagen 135w

    Pretty Boy

    What I wouldn't give for a pretty face
    That clever smile
    And longer legs

    A Taller frame
    A stronger voice
    But sadly here it's not my choice

    Soft hair
    And Pretty eyes
    Then I'd never have to cry

    Broader shoulders
    Masculine hips
    Extra freckles and pouty lips

    That kind of look
    that never fades
    That happiness that forever stays

    All they'd say is
    Look at him
    Hes got style and hes so thin

    If I could be him
    Be that attractive
    Maybe I wouldn't be so reactive

    But it's always hidden in my face
    In my hands
    They lack of grace

    In my heart they'll always see
    I'll never be the pretty boy
    I'm ment to be

  • alekthepoet 145w

    Born Human

    Seagulls peck away at forgotten remnants.

    A knot of women gossip and giggle
    as they admire the young man up the shore
    performing pullups, sweat rolling down
    the lines of his back. Two men walk by
    holding hands, sharing a kiss
    before the sunset. A woman relaxes with
    an erotic-mystery-thriller and a
    Jennie of Morris Muscat all for herself.

    And an old man lies on the sand, nude
    and propped on his elbows, his toes tickling
    the rising tide as he stares out into the sea.
    He always hated his body. Hated being
    underneath his skin, his fat, the hair
    on his back, his inadequacies. This old man
    plans to die here, in this new land, his senior
    getaway. But at least he will spend his
    final days at this beach, wetting his feet,
    taking in the rising moon’s cool breath.
    And he’s around people who understand
    his need for freedom, who wouldn’t
    make him feel ashamed for being him,
    for just being born human.

    A young man arrives, staying in the backshore.
    He strips to his boxers and hesitates,
    looking towards the waves for strength.
    He then throws them off and plops down,
    holding his knees to his chest, a smirk on his face.

    by ©alekthepoet

  • m_a_rivers_poetry 148w

    [ the imperfect]

    Why was I formed this way?
    From brittled bones
    to a mass of depression and anxieties
    balled up in a five-foot-two girl
    who doesn't see the beauty in herself
    but promotes it to everyone who doesn't see it
    in themselves.

    When did it become
    that I wouldn't be able to see
    anything but the scars and the friends
    who have left me?
    Have I become such an ugly person inside
    that no one wants me?