Your skeletal structure defies millions of years of evolution and in any other time you would die in childbirth.

How did those genes survive? Why?

Was it so you could exist to be photographed in silk and Anna Wintour-approved feathers? To smile from your glossy page with silent superiority?

I could live on air and tears, but the fact would remain that even stripped of fat and muscle, the bones of my desiccated corpse would far exceed your own in circumference, and I would die hating you.