Do you feel that?
That tingling sensation in your chest?
The way your lungs burn and clench?
The way your ribs tighten or the closing of your throat?
The way their eyes lingered on your imperfections?
The judgement that wrapped its thick fingers around your throat and squeezed as their eyes gave way to what they thought?
Suffocating in what you aren't while you praised their feet and they kicked?
Feeling unwanted?
Unnecessary?
That you waste someone else's oxygen, that you should do as they say?
That you are weak?
We are what we make ourselves.
Did you notice the smiles you received?
The ones who laughed with you?
They don't think you're perfectly imperfect.
They don't think your smile is wonderful.
They don't think your quirks make you better.
They know.
But it doesn't matter what they think or know.
It doesn't matter what anyone thinks or thinks they know.
What do you think? No. What do you know?
Are you perfectly imperfect?
Is your smile wonderful?
Do your quirks make you, you?
Do you know that your smile makes someone happy?
Did you know you're beautiful?
I did.
I also know you're brave.
That You'll win.
Win the game of life as it throws its punches and lashes.
That you'll grow to be even more wonderful than you are now.
Now do you feel it?
The warmth?
The love?
Forget them.
What do you think?
