self-love.

maybe,

I wasn’t beautiful in the sense of unblemished skin, or how my outfits weren’t put together; how I snorted when I laughed, or how I clumsily walked through life.

but,

I collected my tears in jars, to be remembered but not dwelled on. I let the scars heal, and watch the new skin cover my self hatred. I opened the windows of my heart, and let joy seep through.

and,

I’m slowly learning that beauty is found in the excitement in my eyes when I’m about to climb a roof. In the tips of my hair dyed teal, because I wanted it. In the slight tremble in my hands when I’m nervous, and the bruises on my knees from unknown adventures. In my voice when I’m talking to someone I love.

That was beauty. I had looked at self-love all wrong all these years.

It wasn’t how my collar bones showed, or how I painted my nails.

It was the inner beauty, that I found and could be proud of.

 

Dear Someone XXXI

Dear Someone,

 

no one will be you again

after you die

 

no one has your life

and can see with your perspective

 

no one will be a better fit for your soul mate,

they’ll wonder where you are…

 

no one will have your kids,

they won’t have your creativity and bright eyes

 

no one has your smile

or your sassy, snarky attitude.

 

no one will be the writer you are,

you craft characters; breathed life into them

 

so, hold on

you are more than you feel you are

 

Love,

Liv

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

mirror, mirror.

she was beautiful
to everyone
but
everyone looks into the mirror
and sees something differently

I see her beyond the mirror
I reached in through the glass
and I saw the scars
from the razor
I saw her bones
wanting to crack
because nothing can carry this weight
I saw her eyes
and how the light is faint
but still there

she pushes me out
she says beauty is hard
and untainted
I was dirt on her perfect mirror
so she wiped me away.