MATTER BY CHRISTINA LYONS
The picture perfect model on your magazine page Is but a facade , an actress on a stage They edit her body to mold her like clay But clay dries out at the end of the day
And all that she ’ s left with is her weight
A CASTLE MADE OF SAND , WE BUILT AND SCULPTED She starves to be , MELTED skinny , to be AWAY thin , to be SO frailEASILY BY
Until THE her PUSH hair falls AND out and PULL her skin OF turns THE paleDEEP BLUE She keeps holding back , so as not to derail The rapid decline of the number on the scale
She carries it around like a burden to bear Like how much space she takes is her only care For hours and hours in the mirror she stares Critiquing her body in the clothing she wears
Day in and day out , she tries and tries To hold back the tears that pool in her eyes And every time she eats for the last time She punishes herself , as if it a crime
She feels as though she isn ' t enough Every time that number goes up
Her weight consumes her every thought
A And CASTLE the scale MADE decides OF whether SAND she ' s , worth WE it BUILT or not AND SCULPTED , MELTED AWAY SO EASILY BY THE PUSH AND PULL OF THE DEEP BLUE
All she wants is to matter and to embrace
Her belly , her waist , her thighs , and her face But matter is truly what takes up space So why is she afraid to stand in her place ?
See , it ' s not the number on the scale that shows Her worth and her matter , because nobody knows All that she ' s been through to fit in those clothes She matters because of the beauty she holds in her soul
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