Little Imperfections. {Poem}

 

I hate the scrub

That sits in my shower

And tells me to polish away

My little imperfections

For radiant skin.

Doesn't it know that

My radiance is in my imperfection?

Can't it see the wild beauty in the bags under my eyes

The blackheads on my skin

The stretch marks on my ass

The scratches on my heart? 

My radiance is in my rawness

My power is in my weakness 

There is nothing to overcome.

There is nothing to fix.

I'm replacing my quest for fixing

With

Being.

Breathing.

Dreaming.

There is nothing inside that needs fixing

Maybe just some parts that need

Extra loving. 

So no

Fuck no

I won't polish away my

Little imperfections

 I will own them

I will hold them close

And show them  

To the world

On my tender heart

In this poem

In my tears. 

Because there is something

So treacherously vulnerable about

Being human.

And that's what I want

To be--

Human.

Real. 

Me. 

 

 

 

Photo: Author's own.