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Sinking roots nobody sees
trapped within a barren field
a flower struggles to breathe.

She fights to grow
hopes to heal
one day she will....

For she is the blossoming flower,
as fragile as the paper
to which she writes her soul,

yet just as strong
as the heart
that frames each poem.
Im still healing from all the wounds inflicted by an insecure girl, but each day I water the seed of love within me, the more I grow into the confident woman I was always suppose to be.
The magic of love
is in its ability to heal
the b r o k e n.

Hearts of glass,
a fragile beauty,

beneath the light of love
we easily s
                    h
                       a
                         t
                           t e r;

s c a t t e r e d   stardust
glistening in the wind.

               In the center of your core
               is where you'll find me,
               nuzzled in the broken,
               diminishing your darkness
               with the light of my soul;

love softening every wound
sharpened by heartache.
All the walking books
I have yet to read;
the human hearts that beat.
Soon to be acquaintances
or lifelong friends.

Some come and go as surface dwellers.
Others stay,
and come to know you better;
the roots of the tree
that gave birth to its branches.

Reveal to me more
than your shallow surface,
I want to know the deeper you,
the intricacies
that make up who you are.

I will build a bridge
between your heart and mine,
listen to understand.
I will choose to climb the ladder
leaving judgment on the shelf below.

Be unafraid to trust in intimacy.

Hide no part of you
bare your scars to me
for I have them too
my love will only grow
in light of all you show.

Be courageous in faith.
Share with me the wear and tear
of a human heart
Lovers bearing scars,
bare to me all

the unpretty things that make you beautiful.

©achosenword
An extension of two earlier poems that seem to fit better together. I also wrote this because I have such a curiosity about people, a real desire to see beyond the mask of skin and get the know what's underneath; true beauty.
F
    a
        l
    l
i
   n
g
hard
for his soft eyes
arrow in your heart
from a lover that's long gone
bittersweet memories
drunk on your favorite wine
waking to a hangover
"And for the first time in a long time I found a hope I once lost to a storm, a happiness I knew I had, but needed to find again."

Isnt it hard to breathe
underneath all that mask?
I ask my self daily,
while I listen to the world,
but hide myself in my shell.

Insecurity:
discouragement of one's true beauty,
an adornment courtesy
of too many misplaced trusts
in society's lust for perfection.

The idea,
planted false notion in me,
a seed of deceit,
one I taught myself to believe;
to question who I am.

How much am I worth?
Am I something artificial?
Somedays I don't feel real.
My doubt undermines my potential.
How do you know if your good enough?

My mind has no answer;
but the heart knows I already am.
I just need to learn to listen,
not be so stubborn minded,
less susceptible to belittling self.

Its hard you know,
when youve been told,
by yourself your whole life,
that you are coal,
instead of diamonds.

Ive been my harshest critic,
forgiving of others
but often unforgiving
of my own mistakes.
Not allowing myself to heal.

Ironic,
to be so sensitive to others
but ignorant of my self,
my own brutal teacher
of lessons in self esteem.

I had to reclaim the cofidence,
I exchanged at an early age
for inferiority, insecurity.
I had to learn to love myself, a hard lesson,
but one worth all the trouble I experienced.

Now I am no longer the girl
searching for someone else,
but a woman who has found herself.
I have learned to be kinder to me.
Accept myself as I am; love me unconditionally.

©achosenword
The war between low self esteem, and self love and self acceptance is a constant battle, one I am determined to win.
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