I find you years before you become admirable.
You were given to me without choice.
With force I tried to hide the weakness,
arbitrary rules, the double edged blade that you came with.

Waves heave in and out,
it's a full moon, midnight.
I'm alive and wild, my eyes black.
I hunt for you now.

Are you in my beauty products?
My lingerie?
Are you in my selfies?
My self love?

You're everywhere on everyone else.
They celebrate, basking in their discovery, 
holding hands with one another. But I grew
too accustomed to wearing you like sin.

Stretch marks cherished, finally understood,
bones, bumps, asymmetry gets a seat.
Seas of every shade of flesh blind me
from my own, why can't I look like that.

My hate for you runs in my blood,
makes my erroneous hairs stand on end.
I hear your echoes of years before
still telling me what to wear.

I should feel beautiful, doesn't everyone now?
I want to join this love drunk parade, this should be
my rush hour. I find you, you're sick, and too old
to be taught these new tricks.

-Mayzie Hopkins