A very small caterpillar wasn't hungry like the rest.
Days without food made it numb.
It sat around like a bum,
But it just needed food.
Filled with nothing but air and organs,
It fell behind its peers.
This caterpillar was everything it had supposedly wanted to be.
Thin. It was a dream come true.
It had looked up to these thin models.
Stared at their edited images,
Which were physically impossible to achieve.
The caterpillar focused purely on these goals, neglecting the future.
In contrast, everyone around was accepting themselves
And turning into these beautiful winged creatures.
Creatures that can take flight,
Coming in assortments of colors,
Almost glowing as they take the breath away from onlookers.
Eventually the caterpillar sat there and realized what it could be.
It watched butterflies fulfill their purpose of flight.
Those creatures, they brought light.
The caterpillar was full with emotion,
Yet no passion to move on.
Thin as paper was the goal, but it seemed so far from reach.
Because being thin as a butterfly was even better.
However, the caterpillar had sent itself away from a cocoon,
A haven meant to protect and grow in.
Instead, the caterpillar followed a path of pain.
Hunger eventually fought its way through with its immense strength.
The caterpillar ate a week worth of leaves,
All in one go for a low blow.
The feeling was so disgusting,
Twisting and turning the small stomach.
The taste was so revolting and too filling.
It was finally full, just not the way it wanted to be.
Wait, how would the fellow caterpillars feel?
This one felt as huge as a titan.
What if the rest thought the same?
Those around always worried for this gaunt caterpillar.
They were relieved once it got some food,
But the caterpillar looked even worse.
Food was supposed to be the solution.
Yet now it was acting as a factor that just made things worse.
Nonetheless, the caterpillar dragged itself along,
Puking its contents of hate back up.
Too much was an issue, but so was nothing at all.
How could the caterpillar accept this?
It hadn't even accepted itself yet.
The thought was so aggravating.
Finding the perfect middle seemed newly impossible.
Once so happy with its image, it was now tainted with fear.
It brought itself into a deep dark pit.
Now at an all time low, the caterpillar feels it will never be beautiful.
The caterpillar can’t even eat properly,
For meals are far too disgusting, but being empty is overly nauseating.
There’s no way it could function without this basic need.
It is as alone and isolated as ever, but there are caterpillars that live the same.
If only they could all meet and realize that beauty is the acceptance of oneself.
Maybe, just maybe, they'll all become ethereal creatures.
For now, the loved ones of this lonely caterpillar will come to aid and light the path.
A little help can be detrimental or transformative.
The caterpillar must learn how to take risks,
Even if it leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
