And I think to myself, why shouldn't I embrace this? Why shouldn't I be proud to be born on the seventh, to have changed since I was seven and to remember year seven, when I was eleven? Why don't I look in the mirror and give myself credit? Sometimes I can see an angel, smiles and cuteness and beauty in a person.
Maybe I don't like me because my expectations are raised when I don't look like them, but I am a gorgeous creature and the deities created me with their love and made me their best. They said I should be birthed on the seventh, the number of heavens. The number of ethereal beauty and intelligence, that's what I see in a number of such luckiness.
I am a Taurus, a sign of gorgeous looks, and I'm connected to deities of pretty names, to ones that should give me the love of a mother. Maybe mine was more pain than comfort, but the deities love me so why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I embrace the colour of my skin and admire my almond eyes the way the pure blessing in my life can?
I swear she's an angel created by the deities, to guide me. Maybe I'm an angel too, and was created to guide back. I need to respect this creation rather than torture it on a daily basis, just look at the wonderful charm I can be to people. I'm a sweetheart who loves unconditionally and I want the best for people regardless of the treatment I receive.
Just because I'm not received well at times doesn't mean I can become someone cruel. There is no room in my body to entirely dislike someone, as the deities whisper in my ears, 'even you.' Oh Goddess Aphrodite and her beautiful thoughts, she is upset to see wounds on her work of art. I cannot stop the insecurities and pain and temptation to destruct, but I wish dearly that she'll love me no matter what.
Yet I wish that I looked better, in the way that I want, but life isn't like that and Aphrodite cannot control it all. Maybe it is me and self love is my key, but I can't lock the evil away when self love is a concept I choose not to recreate. Why can't I see what she says to me, a blessing in real life who stays beside me?
She compliments my smile, my eyes and my tresses, and she notices the crème de la crème in my poems. She sees all the goodness that I can't see in myself yet no matter what she says, nobody can stop my disordered mind. I don't take people for granted though, she is a precious wisteria and I love her endlessly no matter my manners.
I know I can't ignore what she says all the time, and I want to be good to the angel in my life. This is not only a poem, this is realisation and me trying to accept my body even though I know I'm going nowhere and I'll dislike what I see an eternity. But maybe, just maybe, I might see the true me behind all the expectations and scenery. Elara kisses the clouds, and she is at ease.
© Sincerely, ♡ - June 2023
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My Guts Create A Tapestry - Poetry
PoetryThis poetry is strictly copyright, it's all written by me. These poems tend to be written sweetly so you could be reading the most gorey poem and it'd be like it's romantacised. I don't try to romantacise them, it's the way I write. You'll possibly...
