Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I have already heard the word rubbed raw across the flesh of so many girls before me. Thrown at them like rocks that beat the skin of those we do not understand.
“You are beautiful,” we yell with such contempt. “God dammit, why won’t you just believe me, you’re beautiful!” It is not a compliment. It is a victory march of your own self sacrifice. “You’re beautiful,” we say through gritted teeth. “You’re beautiful,” we spit out through tears, looking at a reflection we hate. “You’re beautiful,” we say, holding a body that has never felt the arms of another. “You’re beautiful.”"
Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. A word like that floats on the surface, give me something with depth. Tell me I’m intelligent. Tell me I’m courageous. Tell me that when I laugh the whole world smiles. Tell me that my voice is sweeter than strawberries. Remind me that my hands have helped flowers grow, painted the ocean, and captured the sky in my phone. Assure me that with a mind like mine, I can change the world.
Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I don’t really care if it’s true. I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that beauty goes through and through. Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I’ve felt the word splatter against me enough for a lifetime. I am better than the “beautiful” that slips from your lips. I am the ocean, 36,000 feet deep. There are parts of me you have never seen. I am outer space, infinite in your search. I am not simply “beautiful.” I’m a ******* masterpiece.
AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT
I was supposed to text everyone I knew, but I feel my blog reaches more than my occasionally wonky SMS so…
For all of you who are tested. Who are tried. You feel as if they must needs make it alone. For all those who struggle to lead or to follow. For those who feel life has become a constant struggle to keep afloat…
You do not go through life alone.
God’s not dead.
God’s not dead.
[Spoken Word] When God Sees You
When God looks at you, He does not see failure.
He does not see comes up short.
He does not see overly emotional,
slippery slope to disaster.
He is not a taskmaster,
demanding perfection at every turn, and you do not
have to earn his affection; it was already in effect
before you ever sought him. His is the Love that bought out sin.
That pried you from the spiny grip of death and…
[From January 2013] The Lover, Discoursing
I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in…
[Me and My Lists] Part 6: The Heart-Break Kid
“They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.”
~ William Shakespeare
“He was despised and rejected,
a man of sorrows familiar with grief,
a man from whom people hide their face,
spurned and considered of no account.”
~ Isaiah 53:3
Usually, I love rain–the quiet gloom, the chill…
Roaming In Place, Part 2: Why I Stay
This is why I stay behind,
When everyone else goes off to seek
Adventures under another sky.
I stay because I’ve already found mine.
Mum’s diagnosis is that I had a nervous break yesterday. Driver got spooked and/or offended and ran off with the office phone.