You all have a little bit of
"I want to save the world", in you
I just want you to know
That it's okay if you only save one person
And it's okay if that person
Is you

She
Is the apple of a selfish man's eye
The one every girl despised,
An excuse for the jealous stirring
They felt in their bones
Every time she strode
Head high
Chin up

She
Carried a backpack of never ending jokes
Wherever she stopped by
And the only giggles she could
Involuntarily
Push
Out of the mouths of her helpless followers,
Were the genuine types,
The laughter
After
Depression and tension

She
Bloomed in ball gowns
And party dresses
She could keep her heels well shined
While still
Strutting
On the dance floor
Nothing but glitter
And glam
And a girl with passion and desire

But
This is how the world saw her
Watching from a car window
Nothing but her appearance and facade
Her, at the least of what she was

Behind the curtain of
Pretty
Her hair and humor blessed her with,
Was a landscape of
Beauty,
Her for what she is

And if you tried hard enough
You would see that

She captures the heart more than any set of eyes.

She could make you laugh hard enough
To make the lemonade pour out of your nose.

She could sing up your spirits with a melody that goes "you are beautiful".

She could rock the formal attire society required,
But she looked far more joyous in sweatpants and rock concert t-shirts.

She is jolly more than giggles
She is grace more than glitter
She is beauty more than pretty

My, if you met her,
You'd called it blessed rather than lucky

A mirror is never just your reflection,
My mother once said
The mind has this devilish way of
Twisting
Things around
Making then a lot more or a lot less
That what stands before me
Suddenly
My face isn't my face anymore
Instead
I stare blankly at a blueprint
Society itself has hand-sketched
For me.
Post-it's on where things had gone wrong
Scribbles on things I needed less of
Highlighters on places I needed
Brighter brights
Thinner thins
And I just stood there
Watching
As these self-proclaimed architects
Unraveled
The plans they had for a body that wasn't theirs.
Accepting
The new rooms they had drawn next to the ones that already existed,
The ones that were always there
The ones I made a home out of,
The mole on my ear
That never seemed out of place
Until,
The impact of a critical post it told me so.
The place where my thighs met
I've always ignored,
Assuming I was normal
But the scribbles that
Begged
For less of me,
Proved otherwise.
The marks of stretched skin
I considered battle scars over a few calories at a buffet table
Nullified
By society's architects
Disapproved
As if it were up to them
Invalid
Like human came in the form of overruns
But I stare at this blueprint that suggests to change me from
Floor to floor
Head to toe
And wonder
If the one who owns the lot in which I am
Wonder
If He wanted to change me anymore than them
If He liked the original rooms
More than the ones carved to fit the trends
If He wanted me to ignore the architects
And the drafts of copies
And copies
And copies
Of different versions of me

Didn't He want me to accept the mirror for who I am?

I am a tree
That is still learning how to
Keep it's roots
Under moist soil
And away from little tripping feet.
I'm used to
Yawning
In the morning
Stretching
My branches
Until they have
Dropped the apple
Slightly too far from the tree.
And though I don't have
Much air
In my hair,
The leaves still fall.
Trust me when I say
It isn't worth it being this
Tall.
Sometimes I would long to pay
To not see everything.
The view from up here
Is ironically
Frightening.

Climb these heights
And I can't promise you no
Twigs in your hair
Or scratches on your arms.
This bark is rough
And these leaves,
Stubborn.
But the next time you
Stumble upon these roots,
Remember that I am the tree
That isn't all it looks.

I lose you
like I lose my mind-

effortlessly.