They tell me I’m pretty as their gaze crosses mine and that doesn’t make it fine . As I walk past , they let out a whistle like a endless missile .

I hear them comment for a moment I wouldn’t mind her in my bed . Don’t get ahead of yourself dear their nothing to fear .

I don’t want your attention anymore ! Go ahead call me a bore because I don’t want to be your whore .

My body is a prison an object they desire a mission they have to set me on fire and maybe I do need new wires cause I’m harming myself .

Each cut I carve , each meal I skip until I starve . Each night I weep as your actions repeat , yet I’m left alone to keep this shame because my body is to blame .

So go ahead judge me for my fashion choices I promise I won’t hold a grudge . It’s impossibly ugly this sweater , but I’ll wear it each week no matter the weather .

Maybe next time when I pass on by they’ll notice my taste and call me a waste and leave me alone so I can walk home.