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I am not pretty.
Do not proceed to lie to my face
and tell me that I am—I know
I am not.

But I am
beautiful sometimes
and I know that.

I am beautiful
when I try to understand why
I do treachorous things to myself
for something as little as
temporary release and
try to grasp the answer
and hold on to it
despite everything else.

I am beautiful
when I backtrack and find
the thousands of things I lack
and still cherish
the things I do have
even though most often than not
the latter pales in comparison
to the former yet
still, I try.

I am beautiful
when I admit to myself that
sometimes I am weak
because that’s the truth.
That’s the truth
and that’s how I know
I can be strong.

I am beautiful
at my surrender.
I am beautuful
at my letting-go.
I am beautiful
at my self-exploring.
I am beautiful
when I am not hating—
at myself, most of all.

I am beautiful sometimes,
and I know that,
and for that I am
grateful.

         — jespica,
         prayers #1

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