Beautiful Or SkinnyWake up at 5:00AM. Take a shower first thing. Towel dry and then blow dry your hair. Eyeliner, mascara, foundation, and lipstick [in that order]. Pick out a short skirt with a frilly top to match. Put them on. Then choose your tallest high heels, grab your bag, and go to breakfast. You pick at your food and eventually manage half a toast and two bites of eggs. Mother worries about you on a daily basis, you know. She can hear the way you purge every night right after dinner. She knows that you weigh yourself daily. She knows you purposely get off two stops ahead of our house so you can walk the rest of the way. Father worries as well. Yesterday he overheard you telling your friends that your size two is too big. You want to be even skinner than you already are. You stare at yourself in the mirror for hours. Twisting this way and that, hoping that the disgusting person you see in the mirror will transform into a beautiful, skinny version of you. You have started to believe that beautiful
Death's IronyMy gay lover lay dying that evening.Ironically, his untimely demiseWould come by theHand of prostate cancer.Yes, a part of his glorious [now rail-thin] bodyThat gave us both immense pleasureWould be Death rappingUpon our bedroom door.I clutched him tightly to my chestAnd kissed his plump lips one last timeBefore Death took him away.Now forever will IMourn my gay lover’sIronic dismiss.