He calls my body a canvas,
Tells me that it is beautiful.
That my blemishes are beautiful,
My hair that curls a little too much in the back is beautiful,
My scars are beautiful,
My acne is beautiful,
My Vitiligo is beautiful,
My stretch marks are beautiful.
He tells me these things,
And I'm scared to believe him;
The idea of showing him my whole body is
Terrifying.
But if there's one person in the world,
Who can look upon my body without disdain,
With light in his eyes,
It's him.
I'm so thankful.
How did I get so lucky?
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
He calls my body a canvas,
Tells me that it is beautiful.
That my blemishes are beautiful,
My hair that curls a little too much in the back is beautiful,
My scars are beautiful,
My acne is beautiful,
My Vitiligo is beautiful,
My stretch marks are beautiful.
He tells me these things,
And I'm scared to believe him;
The idea of showing him my whole body is
Terrifying.
But if there's one person in the world,
Who can look upon my body without disdain,
With light in his eyes,
It's him.
I'm so thankful.
How did I get so lucky?
