dear media;
my body is art.
**** your opinion and your ideals on what I should be
because I am living, breathing art.
my face shows young beauty,
inspiration and awe found in my eyes
and just beneath the pupil, a shimmer of excitement.
my lips have said so much, they seem to be so ripe with the words they speak,
they send daggers
yet stay plump and baby pink.
and what about my arms? they have endured so much,
every cut, bruise, and punch for a lonely night or the feeling of not being good enough.
they allow me to write my words;
hold those up plagued with the feeling of being alone
my arms, they are strong.
my stomach is like a mountain and
next time I'm in bed the man I'm with will understand as he
runs his fingers between every space of each rib and kisses my stomach,
down to my inner thighs and back up again.
and my thighs, still fresh and wild
dangle and jump at the mere sight of adventure
wrap around a mans waist to make him feel better and
kiss him on the cheek with the lips I spoke of before.
my brain will hold and absorb galaxies,
an endless universe unfolding before me and
i will take in each bit and dream of it at night because;
i am ambitious, diligent, strong and talented,
and yet I can still be
soft and caressed and fragile but,
media, society, never mistake my kindness for weakness because
i will take the food you feed me and spit it right out because
my body and mind is worth much more.
dear media;
my body is art,
and you will not be the artist.
conceptcollection
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
dear media;
my body is art.
**** your opinion and your ideals on what I should be
because I am living, breathing art.
my face shows young beauty,
inspiration and awe found in my eyes
and just beneath the pupil, a shimmer of excitement.
my lips have said so much, they seem to be so ripe with the words they speak,
they send daggers
yet stay plump and baby pink.
and what about my arms? they have endured so much,
every cut, bruise, and punch for a lonely night or the feeling of not being good enough.
they allow me to write my words;
hold those up plagued with the feeling of being alone
my arms, they are strong.
my stomach is like a mountain and
next time I'm in bed the man I'm with will understand as he
runs his fingers between every space of each rib and kisses my stomach,
down to my inner thighs and back up again.
and my thighs, still fresh and wild
dangle and jump at the mere sight of adventure
wrap around a mans waist to make him feel better and
kiss him on the cheek with the lips I spoke of before.
my brain will hold and absorb galaxies,
an endless universe unfolding before me and
i will take in each bit and dream of it at night because;
i am ambitious, diligent, strong and talented,
and yet I can still be
soft and caressed and fragile but,
media, society, never mistake my kindness for weakness because
i will take the food you feed me and spit it right out because
my body and mind is worth much more.
dear media;
my body is art,
and you will not be the artist.
conceptcollection
Happy new years everyone! I just want to thank you for the endless support I get although I don't have much work up. I wrote this little poem because one of my resolutions is to love myself more. I spent so much time in 2014 obsessing over my weight, and now im ready to be healthy and not worry so much about it. Thanks once again and have a great new year!!