New Age Aphrodite




If CSI powdered humanity with the dust of the earth

traces of divine fingerprints would stand out

in the dirt.

But no.

No. NO.

Natural beauty isn’t enough


it’s just that: natural.

Hated is anything not

‘perfected’ by man.

A form shrouded

in the mists of time

finds no welcome in the

modern age.

To be desirable is to be fake.

Imperfection unthinkable

and worthy of judgement.

Curves: a must

but must show no trace

not an inkling

of fat.

Toned: definitely

but not enough

to challenge a man’s


You are worthy

only if from scalp to toes

you please the eyes of men,

wherever they linger.

In both long skirts

and lingerie


If not, never mind

tuck yourself away

haven’t you heard?

Only the beautiful–the perfect–hold their head high,

are worthy of even a


Don’t you know?

Sexy is god.

And convenience its goddess.

Their worship is the way of the world today

Photoshop and starvation its ordinances

and lies its liturgy.

But it still sells, right?

That’s what matters.

The mirror remains unedited;

real bodies inspire tears.

Boys will be boys

Pressure to conform

these measurements

this shape.

I can’t believe you ate two bowls of cereal

Round not drooping

Firm not soft

If you don’t look like this, guys won’t want to see you let alone touch you

Rolls banished

stretch marks blasphemy

You’re only this size because you’re stressed

No worries.

Your weight might’ve been a slight factor

Covered in shame

whispers of loathing from

inside and out.

I don’t want a girl who struggles with body image

Out with friends.

store window

quick, glance away


the place in front of the mirror is free

guess we’re not doing that today.

Hanging out

sit up! You can’t let them see

Mirror at home.

I want to vomit.

*say cheese*

Photographs haunted.

Friendships ruined.

Do other women only befriend

so they look good in comparison?

Your arms are disgusting! Don’t wear those sleeves!

Anxiety high.

How do people stand looking at me?

Does he like me?

Haven’t you learned?

Never believe that again.

Always remember, unfortunate loser

of the genetic lottery:

the size of your stomach



decides if you’re worthy

of anything at all, especially love.

And you failed to pass on

all accounts

the standard set by perfection.

So give up!

Accept your unsightly reflection

and be content;

at least you have a great


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