Body Love, Pt. 1

I know girls who are trying to fit into the social norm

Like squeezing into last year's prom dress

I know girls who are low rise, mac eyeshadow, and binge drinking

I know girls that wonder if they're disaster and sexy enough to fit in

I know girls who are fleeing bombs from the mosques of their skin

Playing russian roulette with death

It's never easy to accept

That our bodies are fallible and flawed

But when do we draw the line?

When the knife hits the skin

Isn't it the same thing as purging?

Because we're so obsessed with death

Some women just have more guts than others

The funny thing is women like us don't shoot

We swallow pills, still wanting to be beautiful at the morgue

Still proceeding to put on make-up

Still hoping that the mortician finds us fuckable and attractive

We might as well be buried with our shoes

And handbags and scarves, girls

We flirt with death everytime we etch a new tally mark

Into our skin

I know how to split my wrists to reveal a battlefield too

But the time has come for us to

Reclaim our bodies

Our bodies deserve more than to be war-torn and collateral

Offering this fuckdom as a pathetic means to say

"I only know how to exist when I am wanted"

Girls like us are hardly ever wanted you know

We're used up, and we're sad, and drunk and

Perpetually waiting by the phone for someone to pick up

And tell us that we did good

We did good.

I know I am because I said am

I know I am because I said am

I know I am because I said am

My body is home

My body is home

I know I am because I said am

I know I am because I said am

I know I am because I said am