I wonder what you see when you see me.
Do you see the imperfections I saw standing in front of the mirror?
Poking and prodding every little flaw with disgust.
If they said it it must be true.
Do you see the hate I marked my skin with?
Tally marks to remember battles I have lost with myself.
I am still here, wounded but breathing.
Or do you see the love I give to it in spite of the perceived flaws?
I am still learning to love this home of mine.
So I stand in front of the same damn mirror as a statement and tell it with enough conviction,
“I am the goddess of this body, this is my temple and I will decide to decorate it however I want,
I am the idol that resides here; this is my shrine and mine alone.
And if you so much as raise a finger, click your tongue to tell me how to decorate it
I shall rage on you, curse you, spit fire to burn you.
I won’t conform to fit your neat little boxes any more. I am more than enough to destroy those doubts, insecurities and suffocating walls.”
YOU ARE READING
The Blooms Of My Garden
Poesie'The Blooms Of My Garden' is divided into 6 parts. Every part deals with one theme and various emotions that are associated with it and how the poet deals with it. 1. Love 2. Lust 3. Heartbreak and Closure 4. Self-doubt and self-love, healing and b...
