Beautiful

My Screaming Twenties

You cry because it is the first thing

the world and its oxygen

taught you to do –

you, a scrunched up ball

of someone’s perfection –

a perfection you have never

seen, never believed.

Even when your mother

made daisy chains to adorn

your crown.

Or when your father cried

the first time you smiled,

not at him nor yourself

but the birds in the sky

and the whistling songs

they sing.

You frown because safety

is your priority,

because saying you are

beautiful, out loud

even to four walls

as if they are a crowd,

is dangerous.

The roses, love letters,

best wishes and mirrors

still say it for you –

beautiful,

but you refuse to believe it –

with tired eyes, errands

and ‘maybe next times’.

You shrink because you

believe the world is too big

and the light in your eyes

stops you from being small…

View original post 75 more words

Author: Kindra M. Austin

Author of fiction, poetry, and very sweary social commentary. Editor and writer for Sudden Denouement, Whisper and the Roar, and Blood Into Ink. Founder of One for Sorrow. Founding member of Indie Blu(e).

2 thoughts on “Beautiful”

  1. Or when your father cried
    the first time you smiled,
    not at him nor yourself
    but the birds in the sky
    and the whistling songs
    they sing.

    You captured that feeling perfectly — a nameless feeling, one that makes your heart want to jump out of your body.

    Liked by 2 people

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