love.
i've always grasped the concept of loving another with all your heart but why was it so hard to love my self the same way. why was it so difficult for me to look in the mirror and accept the way my skin dipped in certain areas. the way my eyes were painted a deep dark brown. the way my hair curled and twisted around itself. hating myself seemed to be a part of my daily routine. striving for an imaginary vision of perfection. but honestly, hating myself isnt poetry. it isnt beautiful. it's tiring, and most of all it's unfair. unfair to myself. i am beautiful. my body is a temple. no, my body is a forest. it is the earth, the soil the stars t hegalaxytheskythecLOUDs my body is a r t.
a unique canvas that is still being painted. as i grow my body grows with me. i only have one of me and i will cherish it. i will cherish myself. i will cherish my beauty. i will
love,
me.
[n.m]
YOU ARE READING
Shattered//poetry
Poetry//just writing down the messy thoughts that are too loud for my head to handle. //poetry, ::lowercase intended::
