"You have such a beautiful way
with your words;
It's almost as if they are laced
with melancholy."

You see, the word beautiful
has been told to me by a lot of people.

Appearance-wise,
how I speak,
how I form my intricate thoughts;
the list goes on.

Their words would elevate me,
and then pull me down like a sinking weight.

It grows like cancer.

Am I enough today?
Must I go on with 'this'?
Why was it given to me when I hadn't asked for it?

And this burden attacks me so viciously
it rips me of my courage,
my interest,
myself,
and who I am.

I feel like an empty shell.

Is this what it means to be beautiful?

If so,
don't let me be.

— Y.H.

beauty,
gentle fervor.