Beautiful.
A foreign concept in his mind, and a forgotten wish in hers.
That is- until he meets her.
Then the definition of beauty tumbles into place,
shooting like stars in his mind
to paint a picture of one thing.
And it’s her.
They find each other,
as if fate would have it another way.
They hold on tight as they
fall through the clouds
and into each other.
He kisses the broken parts of her.
Her heart, mind, ego, and soul.
Even when they’re so broken they crumble in his hands,
he doesn’t give up.
He hears the stories of those who lashed out at her
not with fists, but words that slowly carved her hollow.
He wraps his arms around her,
guarding her from those words, just trying to give her a chance
to heal her broken wings.
He tells her she’s beautiful,
but some scars run too deep to be healed.
Some scars are meant to last forever.
When she looks in the mirror she doesn’t see herself,
she sees the words they said, as if they’ve been written across her heart.
He stares at her for hours, finding it impossible
to find anything that’s not beautiful.
She doesn’t believe him.
She traces the scars on her wrist too painful to be pretty.
Beauty in her mind is the image falsely painted by media’s ugly face.
“Perfect” in every sense of the word
and that’s not what she sees.
She defines beautiful as what she sees everywhere but the mirror and hates herself.
Hates herself because the world doesn’t
define her as beautiful.
Forget beautiful!
he shouts on seemingly deaf ears
if she’s not beauty
the sun doesn’t shine,
the moon doesn’t control the tides,
and the earth is still square.
We define beauty as a plastic copy,
not something real and original,
with curves, flaws, bad days
and with a broken view
on what’s beautiful.
Forget beautiful.
This is beautiful.