self love?

nah.

we don't call it that in my house.

instead,

we say:

I'M AWESOME.

I DESERVE TO BE HAPPY.

AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE.

(and if they try to, i'll steal The_Contranym's sword and show them that they're wrong. or have The_Contranym show them for me. either way works. we'll see.)

I dig deep.

I imagine my hand, reaching into my mouth,

down my throat, and into my chest.

I pull out all the bad.

Handfulls at a time.

They keep going, digging out bad upon bad upon bad.

Until.

I am left with good.

I am left with love.

Love for myself.

My heart over-flows.

Tender appreciation permeates through my pores

and out into the world.

I want to share it.

Sometimes I have so much love for myself.

All I want is to share it with the earth.

Let it pour into the galaxies above.

Let is bleed out, for anybody who needs it to take.

I have enough to give.

I have enough to share.

Let me help,

and we can love ourselves together.

Heal our traumas as one.

Love will cascade into our wounds,

flooding us with fond emotions,

drowning our sorrows,

one moment at a time.

Until even the bad isn't so bad afterall.

my eyes

too big, too red

but when i think about how many times

they have gazed upon the face of someone i love,

or beheld in them the vast beauty of a clear night sky,

they no longer feel so out of place

my mouth,

too small, too pale,

but when i am reminded of the

kisses they’ve shared,

whispered words of admiration

passed through their gates,

i wouldn’t have it any other way

my chest,

too big, too awkward

but when i remember

that it encases my heart, my soul,

holding dear everything that keeps me alive

and makes me who i am,

i rejoice for it and all it confines

my arms,

too thick, too freckeled

but when i recall

all the warm embraces they’ve ever shared,

holding close whom i hold dear,

and carrying all i’ve owned with care,

i am glad that they’re always by my side

my hands,

too stubby, too scarred

but when i consider

all the other hands they’ve held,

all the melodies they’ve tapped out

on yellowing piano keys,

i am greatful to have their grip

my legs,

too muscular, too long

but when i realize

that they’ve carried me everywhere i’ve ever gone,

through each new day, to each new place,

and held me up even when the world wanted to bring me down,

i know that they’re just right for me

when i think about myself,

it’s far too easy to be blinded

by hating what i immediately see.

but when i think about all that i love,

i realize everything that i hate

is percisely what brings it to me.

and it’s not so hard to love myself anymore.