So many Junes and Julys
I spent watching the paint dry
on our brand new cream walls
instead of going to play football
with the other kids my age in the street.
I sat and wondered why
my shaking knees did not smile, why
my bony fingers could not disguise
their quirkiness under pretty blue eyes
like all the other girls did.
And yet many paint coats later
I now realise that these walls have not changed
anything but their colour
in the many years my parents have lived here.
My parents, who spent so many years teaching me
to be loyal and kind,
not only to others
but to myself.
I like to think that if the walls could talk, they would say:
It does not matter what colour you decide to
dye your hair (or your walls),
because those who really love you
could not care less.
We have seen you grow into the person you are today;
stubborn, passionate and genuine,
but we know that you may still need to borrow
other people’s glasses to see it.
The road to self love is difficult
but know that you must love yourself
before loving anybody else.
You may not believe it yet
because you see others as the galaxies which
you could never be, but we promise that
you are the stars, and anyone who refuses
to look through a telescope to see that
does not deserve to see you shine.
There are lakes and rivers waiting for you
with open arms, and sunrises
which will put on their best colours
just for your eyes to see.
Your body is made of stardust,
you are stronger than the trees you have grown to love,
and though you may not be perfect
you are enough.
i'm trying to teach myself that self love is the best love, even if it isn't easy. this is my first poem, I hope you like it x