I am made of stardust—
every inch of my body was once a part
of the galaxy
and I need to start to remember that
How could I possibly hate the skin I’m in
when at one point people would look up at the stars
and marvel at my beauty
I am more than just bones
and muscle
and skin—
my lungs were plucked from the Milky Way
my hands once touched Saturn
and the love in my heart was a gift from the moon
If I continue to hate my body
then I am hating the universe that crafted me
with her own two hands—
how cruel to look at an artist
and scoff at the beauty they have created
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 4:43 PM UTC
I am made of stardust—
every inch of my body was once a part
of the galaxy
and I need to start to remember that
How could I possibly hate the skin I’m in
when at one point people would look up at the stars
and marvel at my beauty
I am more than just bones
and muscle
and skin—
my lungs were plucked from the Milky Way
my hands once touched Saturn
and the love in my heart was a gift from the moon
If I continue to hate my body
then I am hating the universe that crafted me
with her own two hands—
how cruel to look at an artist
and scoff at the beauty they have created
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