"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.
"Beauty fades over time," a man had once said.
"They wilt like flowers;
never stay, never eternal."
And in a way, those words put me to rest.
I was grateful.
(c) Y.H.
