Milk and Bread

Air escaping like a balloon with a hole,

Can’t catch my breath, lost my soul.

Wanting to run but instead I just stop

All I wanted was to run to the shop

Grab the milk, run for the bread

Things start twirling in my head.

I can’t escape, it’s happening now

I’ll make it through this, just not sure how.

Focus on four things, three now two,

People are staring but what can I do?

I’ve made it to one, doc said I’ll feel better

Vision is tunneled and palms feel wetter.

Lights are too bright, the noise is too much,

Aisles are spinning, reality out of touch.

So, I return my milk and put my bread where it was found,

Run to my car and put the shade down.

Collect my thoughts before I back out,

Think of what is the easiest route.

Back to my house where I’m safe in my bed,

Where no one can tell me it's all in my head.

Beauty

Society defines beauty by what we wear,

Who we hang with, the style of our hair.

The size of our bust and the shape of our waist,

If our bras push up and our panties are laced.

We live in a world that’s shallow as can be,

Thanks to the brave we get to be free.

Chained by opinions and desire to be accepted,

But the newest fashion trend now your dreams intercepted.

How can we be free if we’re trapped in this perception,

Living each day to reach others’ thoughts of perfection.

Release this idea that beauty is bought,

Its deeper than this, its lost in your thoughts.

The way the sun hits you when you first wake up,

Your big gummy smile when you play with a pup.

The way that you giggle at the same silly thing,

When you take the less fortunate under your wing.

You dance in the kitchen and sing that old song,

Your beauty is erupting out of you so strong.

It’s not on the days when your hair flipped just right,

You’re not any less if your jeans get too tight.

You are beautiful in so many ways,

You’re just lost in societal haze.

Tiny Ears

As I look into the mirror, hating what I see,

I’m reminded in her tiny smile, she sees herself in me.

Not the number on the scale or the stretch marks on my sides,

But kisses on her boo-boos and the hands that wiped her eyes.

Forgetting tiny ears are listening as I spew self-hate,

My ears, my nose, my fingers, these are all her traits

She walks up to the mirror with tears in her tiny eyes,

Grabs a piece of soft skin and squishes on her thighs.

“I don’t like me either mommy, my thighs are chunky too,

You say I look just like you mommy, do you hate me too?”

Crouching to her level, tears begin to flow,

How confusing it must be when I respond with “No”

Immediately I change my thoughts and the words that I say

God forbid she turns 34 and talks to herself this way.

I stand back up and face the mirror, what a scary thing to do,

Not with hate, but through her eyes, I think I can love me too.

As we look ahead at our reflections I’m changing my perspective,

I want her know that she is perfect and not someone who’s defective.

“Legs are strong, my freckles mine and belly has beautiful marks”

She chimes in “don’t forget mommy, our crazy, messy locks”

I take a breath, knowing for sure that it’s not too late,

My little girl can be filled with love and not with self-hate.

I’ll say kind words and love myself if not for me, for her,

I hope one day the hate for me will only be a blur.