Beautiful

You cry because it is the first thing

the world and its oxygen

taught you to do –

you, a scrunched up ball

of someone’s perfection –

a perfection you have never

seen, never believed.

Even when your mother

made daisy chains to adorn

your crown.

Or when your father cried

the first time you smiled,

not at him nor yourself

but the birds in the sky

and the whistling songs

they sing.

 

You frown because safety

is your priority,

because saying you are

beautiful, out loud

even to four walls

as if they are a crowd,

is dangerous.

The roses, love letters,

best wishes and mirrors

still say it for you –

beautiful,

but you refuse to believe it –

with tired eyes, errands

and ‘maybe next times’.

 

You shrink because you

believe the world is too big

and the light in your eyes

stops you from being small enough,

you lie and believe

you are not good enough.

It is easier to see beauty

in daisies, tulips and roses

than in your eyes, cheeks and smiles.

It is easier to see beauty in everything

except yourself.

But the fact you are beautiful

is no less true

 

and the day you cry

because you finally believe it too,

will be the day you will learn

to the cry the way Gaia

intended for you.

16 thoughts on “Beautiful”

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