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Alyssa Smith Poem
If life was a book,
Then I would have never picked it up.
I would have never kept reading.
I would’ve burnt the book the second I had the chance.
It’s like a book you know gets bad, but you can’t help but read on.
It’s a book, it’s meant to be read.
It’s life, it has to be lived.
If life was a book, it would have no name.
There is not one title that can describe life.
If life was a book, I don’t know what I would change.
You never know what’s going to happen.
So why would you want it to be more unknown.
If I said one thing differently it could change my whole life.
My book would go completely different to what I have right now.
And even though it’s bad,
I wouldn’t give up all the people in it.
Take the good with the bad.
Right?
But what is the bad is too much?
What if the good isn’t worth the pain?
What if the good isn’t good enough?
I wish I could pick out the perfect life.
Like picking the perfect book.
Happy ending,
A moral,
Good life,
A few ups and downs but not really bad.
Perfect is something no one can be,
But everyone tries.
Copyright © Alyssa Smith | Year Posted 2025
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Details |
Alyssa Smith Poem
I starve myself.
When saying it out loud it sounds surreal,
But it’s the only way I can feel.
I am not worthy of food.
It is not worth the weight.
Fore I see myself by what I have ate.
Starving is like slowing dying.
Numb, and invisible to what others can see.
Funny how food could be the death of me.
I don’t have the body to match.
And I fear I will always see myself as fat.
You can tell just by looking at me I eat plenty.
My solution being to not eat, to be empty.
The air that fills my lungs now fills my stomach.
But my head fills with words of others,
“You’re too big.” “You should lose some weight.”
These are the words that keeps me up late.
People don’t know how much one sentence can affect me.
Why couldn’t of they just let me be.
Maybe then I would be able to be just a kid.
Maybe I wouldn’t see myself as big.
Sometimes I make myself throw up while sitting on the bathroom floor.
It makes my teeth rotten and my throat sore.
Nothing I do works though.
I am still as big as I was when I look behind at my shadow.
I see all these ‘skinny model girls’ on tv,
And oh god I wish that was me.
Why can’t I just be thinner.
And what makes it worse is the mirror,
Every-time I will lift my jumper and turn to the side,
All I see is how I’ve doubled in size.
I feel disgusted with how I see myself in the reflection.
If I could just redesign each section,
Every single aspect of myself I would inspect.
Every part of my body I would select and perfect.
What I wouldn’t do for a perfect body.
If I could trade my last shaky breath for the body I have dreamt of my whole life,
Maybe then I would love my body, only in the afterlife.
I starve myself,
Yes that’s true.
But it doesn’t have to be for you.
I know you’ve heard this 100 times,
But please eat, and no, not just sometimes.
Food is your fuel.
No body of yours should be treated this cruel.
So go eat a burger, some ice cream and a donut or two.
Food will not be the death of you.
Copyright © Alyssa Smith | Year Posted 2025
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