A Poem: To Be Called Beautiful

Image: @ripato

I battle like a blind woman searching for the power of beauty.

I cannot see the mystery of beauty I search for, it is invisible.

I fight for others to find me beautiful, leaving me with scars and pain.

 

I do not know when I decided that my reflection became my currency for happiness.

I do not know at what point in my life I felt the urgency to fight this battle.

I do not know why I enlisted in this army with countless others in a battle against our bodies,

 

Searching, longing, hoping to be branded by a false dictator into a category of glory, to be called beautiful.

If only…if only I fought harder, perhaps I might get closer,

As if there were a prize, fighting the enemy relentlessly, escaping pain by creating more pain while creating illusions.

 

The ageless war continues as countless victims are lost.

What I know now, is that this is a battle that will never end, until we choose, we are beautiful.

Our beauty is our hearts, our compassion, our creativity, and our passions.

Our beauty is our love, our sensitivity and our softness.

 

Our beauty is our tenacity.

Our beauty is being, loving, giving and forgiving.

Our beauty is inside of us.

 

End the battle now!

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