I Am Beautiful

Poetry Sunday

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

I weigh about a tonne
of raw, unadulterated
Joy.

My skin folds
and creases
so that my scars can say,
I survived.

I am a piece of meat
in a butcher shop where
people come to purchase
Inspiration.
I inspire.

My heart
weighs more than gold
And if I sold it,
no one could afford it.
I love.

My eyes of blue
are not for gazing.
They cut through glass
and souls and hearts
to seek the truth.
I see you.

Don’t say
I am not my body.
My body is not
a possession, or
a representation of what’s
within.
My body is a manifestation
of love.
I am my body.

While I’ve still got breath
in my lungs,
my body is my safety,
my vessel,
an unending cycle of beauty.
I am beautiful.