To the girl who is soft as flower petals,
Whose eyes have leaked acid rain upon skin of snow,
If you are not worthy of your love then who is?
Only you know it's power, only you know the words that your heart speaks
And yet they have been a stranger to your own body.
There is something sweet in the way that you romanticize car drives,
In the way that you appreciate how the chorus hits as the sun peaks from behind the clouds,
In the way that you watch the shadows creep across your bedroom wall,
In the way that you put on a record and clean.
Why do you never give your soul that kind of loving?
You move as if a camera is on you at all times,
And if it were real, would you watch the playback?
Would you appreciate every imperfection of your body, of the way that your voice sounds on recording, and learn to love it all a little bit more before it is gone?
I hope that you can learn it;
How to carry the same love within yourself that you give out freely to others,
How to live without being afraid of being burned by past lovers.
Do not paint your hands blue, undo everything that they have done to you,
Wallow in your sadness and then move on from it,
There is only so much time given to you.
Learn to dance in the sun, child of the moon, it is not greedy to want everything for yourself too.
Wishful thinking upon others, it is good until it drains you,
Not everything is deserving of your blood sweat and gratitude.
I love you, I'm sorry.
Forgive me for what I've done to this body.
From now on I will treat every night like a ceremony,
A celebratory evening to cherish what God gave me.
I still do not know if He is real, but I catch myself looking at the sky and think to myself,
I might walk across the blue bridge when it gets more sunny,
I might catch the light in my hands and let myself breathe for a moment without feeling sorry.
I can live like that, I can be soft and ethereal and airy
And I can become who I want, lean into my visionary.
Take a deep breath, nobody is looking
Their eyes and masks should not decide if you are worthy
Place your feet in the grass and let the sun kiss your tired body
There is healing here, in this place you say you hate,
It will only come if you allow it.
YOU ARE READING
Sunset Over Pointe Inn
PoetryLove once stopped me from writing this book, and I hope that whoever is reading this someday finds the kind of love that inspired me to finish it.
