Ouch-
she's been stung with the not drop-dead-gorgeous,
more like hopelessly
less-than-average looks.
She hates the sticky icky yellow adipose
and blackheads she's been given.
She starts to listen, the follow, then worship
the diet tips the others buzz about.
They say it's as sweet as honey to be thin.

She soon learns skinny is better than slim
and that's better than thin.
Because the skinniest ones are the queen bees,
the not-so-little lazy drones.
There's a reason there's only (size) one queen in the hive.

And she wants to be it-

the best, the worshipped.

She becomes like the bad,
who swarm home to their computers
to share their stats and review diets.
The inches around her waist start to come off like the bees take off pollen from flowers (making them prettier too).
Until all the good flowers in the garden have been plucked,
now there's nothing but bones left. 

There's a reason most bees don't even live a year long.
The remains are only some beeswax turned to candles
that only makes the relatives wonder why their little niece did this to herself.

These bees stand for the skinny b****es who look hatefully pretty in their profile pictures.
These bees stand for developing bulimia and binding calorie limits because you want to yuck inside you out as much as the yuck that you can pull on the outside off too. 
These bees stand for being hopelessly full of blah and bleak because you eternally bad-mouth your big, bulky body.

Watch out for bee stings. You might be allergic.