I’m sure you’ve heard that butterflies can’t see their own wings. Do birds know how pretty they sing? Do giraffes ever wish their neck was short? Do pigs get tired of the mud? Scientists say we evolve for survival, so weather doesn’t make us lose our marbles. But over here is norms, not style— I sure wish that someone had taught my hands and knees how to make a social-approved body. Hourglass, hourglass on the shelf, what corset did your Instagram sell? Tell me, tell me, Cindy Lou, I want to be just like you, you, you. Pinch, pinch, pinch, bleed, bleed, bleed. Doctor, doctor, needle please— what size bra do I need to be a socially approved Barbie with a social-approved body. Maybe if my hair was long, maybe if my waist was small, with a nose so tiny, with hair so shiny, and a smile so blinding— yeah, a social-approved body. What would a peacock do with no feathers? Would a cow cry if it knew it’d be leather? Would clouds ever think they are too pale? And do bunnies hide their teeth because of some beauty-standard tale? Yeah, scientists say we evolve for survival so weather doesn’t make us lose our marbles, but over here is norms, not style— how to grow a flower with just bile and a socially approved smile.