I Curse The Beauty

I curse the beauty,

the so-called thin

the skin and bones that’s dry and hallow

the straightened hair that’s

nothing but plastic

and unreal

 

I curse the people who bring me

to my knees

who make me feel ugly

despite trying hard to be

like the skeletons of masses they are

 

I curse my fragile heart

and starving spirit

for the demons feed on innocent souls

they torture me endlessly

and yet they do it unwittingly

 

I curse the girl I see in the mirror

the one unchanged, almost, over the years

the one they pick on

the one they call fat

 

I curse the beauty

incapable, insatiable of content

and acceptance

 

I curse them all!

as my mental state slowly, but oh so surely

fades into oblivion