Eva - The struggle will stop 

Dear Warriors, 

This is my poem. I hope it helps both you all and myself. 


At first you hear her dulcet laugh

Enticing you with photographs

Of rosy curls and midnight fun

Forbidden swigs of stolen rum

Pretty girls with thin reflections

Your green envy of their perfection

And for just the cost of your teenage years, she can rid you of your body fears

You hate when bodies are criticized, but you never really liked your thighs

And you would never change for him, but could he like you if you were thin?

Your mother tells you "Don't be vain!"

But she could never see the pain

Of what it means to be a teen

Never noticed, never seen

So when she whispers "choose perfection"

To you it's not even a question

She'll become a part of you

She can show you what to do

How to ignore the writhing aches

How to lie and how to fake

How to live off coffee and gum

How its good to be fragile and numb

She'll whisper sweet words to dull the pain

She'll convince that you're not insane 

She'll make you popular, center of attention

Because maybe now you've reached perfection

So perfect your body starts to break

And your fingers start to shake

Your cold knuckles crack

And short temper snaps

Your dazed head turns

And dry lips yearn

Your undereyes are darker than what's eating you inside

Even saying that word makes you want to hide

Your hair is limp, but you don't care

Because you can't stop her, you don't dare

She will throw your lunch into the bin

Because to her it's a cardinal sin

She will teach you to avoid most meal times 

So your parents don't see the signs

And when you eat that slice of cake

She'll make you throw up at first break

She'll make you see your ugly flaws

And rake at them with desperate claws

She'll make you hide and make you lie

So no one notices when you die

And still you continue, you make that choice

Your cold hands cling to her sickly voice

Because she's made this word "perfection"

Your terrible and sick obsession

And so you fall into the ground

Where she'll finally place your crown

Upon your rosy curls so cold

Whilst everyone else is growing old 

Was your figure worth your life?

Worth the pain and worth the strife?

How can you enjoy the midnight fun?

When you're already dead and gone?

Until you see this hollow grave

Unless you see you must be saved

Unless you change your lethal ways

Your "perfection" will eat up all your days

It won't be easy, not even close

It will take the features you love most

Recovery will make your thin cheeks big

And she will tell you "you're a pig"

You'll want to give up every day

And hurt yourself in every way

But if you just let your dazed mind hope

You'll find you'll soon begin to cope

You'll see she was just in your head

The evil part that wants you dead

But if you learn to let her die

Farewell the bad thoughts in your mind

You'll want to stay on this new earth

That life means more than perfection's worth

Perfection isn't lifeless eyes

Jutting hips or skinny thighs

It isn't what the scales say

Even if you feel that way

Perfection is peace, served warm on a beach

Perfection is crunching a handpicked peach

Perfection is joy, sung out of tune with your brother

Perfection is laughing, free with others

Perfection is love, held close to his chest

Perfection's not caring about weighing less

Perfection is being alive again

You can be alive again.

PoemsMargherita Barbieri