When she slings her backpack onto the kitchen counter,
her newest appetite depressants spill out.
She’d tried every diet by the time she was fourteen.

I wonder if her self-esteem is
even lower than her calorie count,
if she’s sick of chugging Coke Zero
and popping sugar-free gum for dinner.

‘Cause all she ever says is
"too many calories",
"too much salt",
"too much sugar.”

And the list goes on,
but this show won’t for much longer,
Because
We are more than the Twiggy wannabes on tabloid covers
who tell us we’re fat.

If we could scrap together enough damn reason
to throw out our Dieting for Dummies
and meal-replacement vitamin packets,
then maybe we could get to a place
where our self-worth doesn’t go up
when the number on the scale goes down.