Letter From A Little Girl

I see you half one slice of bread  

And pop it in the toaster 

I wonder why you’re doing that 

And follow suit thereafter

I see you plucking at your skin 

Saying how you must get thin 

I ponder why you’re doing that 

But follow suit thereafter

I don’t understand yet 

Why you’re looking in the mirror

Looking at the magazines 

You seem to hate what you see

You don’t like the arms that carry me  

The hands that stroke my hair 

The legs that I hide behind 

When I am sad or scared 

I don’t understand yet

Why you didn’t try my birthday cake

Why you didn’t want a happy meal

Why the dark bread you ate was ‘light’ 

Why you left in the middle of the night 

But soon it will be my whole life 
To pick apart my body  

To measure every gram and ounce 

And want there to be less 

To tell myself I won’t stop til I fit into that dress 

To squeeze in late night workouts 

Amongst other pressures of life

To turn down things I used to love 

In my everlasting attempt 

To improve my reflection. 

Tell me, honestly,

Did you want this to be my lesson?