Throughout my life I have always thought, “Wow, what I wouldn’t give to be pretty!”
“I would do anything,” I’d say into the mirror late at night
“I’d give up everything,” I’d whisper before I closed my eyes to sleep
The price of pretty finds itself in the clumps of hair that fall out into my sink
Clumps that clog my drains and are costly in repairs
In the chewed up food I spit into the same sink,
That I spit into the trash, into napkins, cups, old masks, and old fast food bags
It finds itself in the stains in my toilet bowl that bore into my soul when I gaze at them
Or on the damaged, decaying bathroom floor I tread across everyday
The price is paid in the amount of calories I eat
The difference in change found in the amount I refuse
I’ve paid with multiple methods in the pounds I’ve lost
In the pounds I’ve gained
In the pounds I’ve cycled through
The price of pretty sucks the color from my face
Draining me of my tan, leaving me pale, purple, and blue
The price of pretty sucks the fat off my bones
Sucks the energy from my body
Sucks the thoughts from my mind
Until im nothing except broke, numb, and thoughtless
The price of pretty gnaws at my stomach
Creating plans I hadn't known were options
The price of pretty taught me hunger is but another mental obstacle, and are you nothing more if you can't conquer your own mind?
The price of pretty gnaws at my mind
Telling me all the things I’ve done wrong
Showing me the path I’ve traveled to end up here
Creating solutions on how to fix that
The price of pretty collects tax in the form of relationships
It’s taxed the relationship I have with my mother
And how she will never be able to associate me and meals in a normal context
It’s taxed the relationships with my friends
If you cannot enjoy a social gathering with food, how are you to enjoy the company?
It taxes my relationship with work
It becomes a calculated task to know the efficiency I’ll receive from half a banana the night before
The price of pretty has been paid in full
There were no outstanding debts, so why am I not pretty?
Why can I not stomach my reflection?
Why do I still not love myself?
