The Box We Live In

A rigid box 

enclosing our society,

Forcing girls to fit others’ standards.

Perfect hair, 

Perfect body, 

Perfect face.

Not only self disapproval,

But also external criticism 

That fills the school hallways 

With snickers and sniffles.

And boys

Don’t realize how impactful they are 

To the already self conscious peers 

With their seemingly harmless jokes and comments.

Everything said

About their body 

Easily degrades the self worth 

Of younger girls, 

Who are easily swayed 

Into believing the hateful comments

Spewed from the mouths 

Of those trying to lift themselves up, 

Hoping to compensate 

For their lack of confidence. 

Constant judgement 

Pierces through her. 

Her reflection is a constant reminder

Of the ideas lodged in her head.

Allowing her to build a wall 

Between her, 

And the world.

In her own bubble,

Blown by hatred, 

Which strains relationships 

Between friends, 

Between parents, 

Between siblings, 

That only try to help. 

Hoping to shine a light

On the matter, 

Of the popular conversation 

Of that last risky instagram post.

The short-lived topic 

Started by those 

Whose jealousy outweighs 

Their personal morals, 

Due to their expectation of a girl:

The perfect girl.

Later, at home 

Glancing into the mirror,

Contorting her body by

Sucking in her stomach,

Holding her breath,

Arching her back,

While comparing herself to this “perfect girl”,

Hoping to see her staring back, 

Whose expectations are so far out of reach, 

Even though we all strive to squeeze into this box: 

The box of perfectionism.