Mid Morning with a Beauty Magazine

I walked past the mirror today
Fought the urge to look in
And tear apart everything I am
The magazine said my hips were too big
So I imagine sawing them off
Then it said my hair was too curly
So I iron it flat

I still hated what I saw
So I threw the magazine out
And laid on the floor to watch the ceiling spin
In harmony with my thoughts
How I wish...
(Be careful what you say)
How I wish...
I could melt away ...
Send pieces of my generous skin to places
Where consumption isn't in

I crawled to the record player
And listened to it skip
The way my heart skips when I'm torn down
To being nothing more than just another fat girl
Trying to be somewhat beautiful in a deluded world
And I poured another glass of wine
Because I thought numb was better than broken
The ceiling went schizophrenic in the kitchen
Where I taped the refrigerator door shut
And promised today would be the day
That everything would change

But I still found a million stitches of discontent
A million ways I could be better
An infinite string of possibilities that would make me more
But never more than my soul
Always more than the face I had
Or my walk when I weave through a crowd
Or the frizz in my hair
The scar below my breasts...

But never more than my soul

It was sold before I was born.