Has there been one person who always told you you're beautiful?
But not as a compliment.
Not as reassurance.
Not as a pick-up line.
Not as an apology.
Not as a part of a list.
Not as a favor.
Not as a chore.
Not as an echo.
But as a legend.
One of past, present, and future?
Something that was true before you knew, still true now, you know and will always be true even when you forget what you once were.
Have you been told you were just so gorgeous in such a way?
It's jarring.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Joy
PoetryI never spent time seeking joy. I only spent time making a bed comfortable enough in sadness to bare it. Now, I'll see and work at finding joy. This is a continuation of "We Are the Normal Ones: Memoirs of a Fallen Human".
