when i was little
and felt unloved
I would see posts
describing 'her'
'she' was everything 'beautiful'
they described everything that 'she' did
with such grace and poise
it was borderline creepy for sure
they described 'her' gaze
'her' walk
'her' minute actions
they worshipped 'her'
and so I began
to try to be like 'her'
I hated trying to be someone other than myself
but unfortunately it was safer to pretend
and so I learnt early on
to modify my own minute actions
to be more loved
more like 'her'
the way I rose from the bench
the way my face appeared when I was sad
the way I would stand
the way my diaphragm would relax when I exhaled
everything I changed
ultimately feeling unsafe in my own body
the body of a 13 year old
how did I survive I still can't fathom
but 'she' still haunts me to this day
'she' will leave after a few more weeks
is what 'she' promised
and return back to lands of poems and fairytails
and hopefully never come back
YOU ARE READING
I'm fashionably late to loving myself
PoetryThe world would be dull if love, poetry, admiration, zeal, passion, and romance wouldn't lace each strand of our heavenly web. I spill my heart on this one love letter to the entire humanity. In a faint voice though, soft enough to hear only when yo...
