Waves crash over
The coral in the sea
Everyone sees the beauty
But doesn't realize
They're alive
They are the homes of fish
Sometimes fish leave and never
Come back
And sometimes they leave for a
Couple years and come back
In a way people are like fish
They leave forever or vanish for a little while
The coral, the homes,
They are the beautiful people
No, not the models, the cheerleaders, no
The beautiful are the ones hurting
The ones others call weak,
When they're stronger than most
The beautiful are the ones
Who do their best to look like the models
When they don't need to
The beautiful are the ones with
Scars on their thighs, wrists, ankles, stomach
Which one am I?
I'm one of the beautiful
I'm not being prideful or anything
I have proof
And it's not fake believe me
There's things that qualify you
As being a beautiful one
As one of us.
I wrote this recently and for some it might be a lot to take on, but it makes you think of what the standards in this world do to people. People just trying to live, trying to be normal.