Maybe it’s Maybelline.

Maybe if I stop eating	I will be beautiful.
Maybe if I stop eating	I will be beautiful.
Maybe if I douse myself in cover up	my face will be shiny.
Maybe I can put strange things in my vagina	to smell pretty.
Maybe if I beat myself up at the gym	I can stand to see myself in the mirror.
Maybe if I jog four miles a day and then throw up	he will notice me.
Maybe if I drink 8 glasses of water a day	I will look like Cindy Crawford.
Maybe if I only eat fruit	my skin will clear up.

Maybe I’ll just do heroin.
Maybe I’ll just do coke.
Maybe I’ll get liposuction.
Maybe
Maybe
Maybe
Maybe I’ll get a little
tummy tuck,
tummy tuck
Maybe I will suck it in everytime I read poetry.
Maybe if I dedicate all my energy to the way I look
I can somehow resemble the 12 year old on the cover of “Starve” magazine.
Maybe I can just binge and purge
and binge and purge.
Maybe I’ll wear vertical stripes
No I’ll wear horizontal stripes
No Polka dots?
No, no, no.
Solids?
No, no, no more solids
Just lite beer and Slimfast everyday
Maybe I’ll eat Subway and lose 300 lbs like Jared
Maybe I’ll eat strange food dressed up as snack bars
Maybe I’ll kick back and watch my carbs
Maybe I’ll suck on diet pills like they’re candy
Maybe I’ll lose my belly and I won’t menstruate anymore and I won’t
Get fat and have babies, babies, babies!
Maybe
if I stop saying I am unhappy with my body I will be.
Maybe
I will stop congratulating my friends for being so thin.
Maybe
I will change my prerogative
Maybe
I will struggle for new ideas of beauty in the superstructure
Maybe
I will be visible
Maybe the next time I say I/he says she/ she says she
Looks fat/has a fat ass/needs to lose weight
I/she/he will think of this poem and
Stop.

Tracey Luszcz
Copyright 2004