Find Be-auty

Life is beautiful,
but it’s not beauty full.
Find beauty in whatever you can;
create beauty however you can.
There are lots of good things
to do and see;
there’s enough love and joy
for you and me.

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Heal

Were there terrible men and women in your lives,
relatives or non-relatives, at any point,
who found it pleasing to compare your beauty to someone else’s, 
in order to get to you and make you think less of yourself
or get you to agree to whatever perversion they wanted to try with you.

“You are fine but not as fine as your mother. Why are you feeling yourself?
Remove your skirt, let me see your legs” and such.

I bring you healing. You are beautiful, and I’m not just trying to patronize you. Don’t ever let anyone determine what you think of yourself. 

Love Yourself

Feeling unloved is one thing,
feeling unlovable is another.
The latter is the very first
step to self-destruction.

When you begin to feel unlovable,
you stop loving yourself.

You can survive if other
people don’t love you,
but you can’t, if you don’t love yourself.

Vagine-Her

BeFunky CollageIf he tells you your body is ruined
’cause it has been touched by another man,
ask him why he thinks so poorly of the male body [and his own self]
as destructive and ruinous.

 

Flaw-Her

Flaw /flô/
Verb
meaning: (of an imperfection) mar, weaken, or invalidate (something)

It must be very hard to be a flower;
I know it, my darling.
You want to be adored very much,
touched,
selected,
plucked,
but all that comes with fear-
fear of maltreatment and neglect
and decay and death.

The Real Star

We
all
know
that
the
real
star
among
the
lot
is
the
moon

Why don’t you be yourself?
Why don’t you be, yourself?

You are the One

Her hair is laid,
her nails, made,
she wants to go out
to find love today.
She’s pacing, she’s running,
but she’s sitting in front of her mirror.
She’s going to look for ‘the one’,
anywhere and anyhow necessary,
but she won’t find him.

She has been running from herself;
she has been looking for herself.
She’s the one;
she’s the only one,
and the love she so desperately
seeks must come from her heart.
No man’s love will satisfy her for long;
it will only last for a while,
but she won’t admit that.

She wants someone else to breathe for her;
she doesn’t know how to breathe on her own.
She wants someone else to live with her;
she doesn’t know how to live on her own.
She is alive in appearance,
and that body could bring a
dead man back to life,
but she is dying.
Her heart is very weak,
and her soul has been crying.
If you don’t love yourself,
why would you expect someone else to?

 

The Beds and the “Bih”s

Have you ever seen a flower cry because they aren’t being eaten up and feasted on by parasites? Well, I have.

My best fairy tale was the Ugly Duckling
because I felt her every pain.

I was the flower with thorns
that no man wanted to touch,
and while the other flowers had butterflies
and bees and birds circling
them and perching on them,
none of them came that close to me.
Their pollination took place
at the wrong time, of course;
they multiplied before they were fruitful.

And what about the butterflies
and the bees and the birds?
Well, they all went away after a while.