The Artist

This is not indictment or endorsement for anything anyone does with their body. This is just simply a very human thought that I had in the moment. Thank you for being a part of this moment.

I like your scars

They show me that you have not only been through things, but made it through things.

I like your marks

The ones that came from stretches such a yoga or growth such as puberty.

Growth such as pain. At times life can be so cruel.

I love the laugh lines that came from your natural smile. From those times when you felt joy. From those times when in a glimpse everything was pure.

When laughter acted as medicine. And just being accepted as you are was the cure.

I like the things on you that are uneven. The important imperfections in your symmetric’s. Where society points to as flaws. I see spaces and angles where love can grow because of your uniqueness.

I like the purity of your face when you first wake up. I like the excitement you get when you blend your make up.

I don’t know if you’re trying to impress me but I’m still impressed nonetheless.

I like the coziness when you wear my oversized clothes around the house. I like the extra effort you put in when we are having a night on the town.

A specific kind of look is in. And as times goes on another certain kind of look will take over.

I’m glad you don’t chase their ideals, because when I search for your face in a crowd. You don’t look like anybody else.

You’re comfortable in your skin.

I like seeing the scars that match the stories of how you’ve made it this far.

I like when we are close enough I can see the tracks of your past tears. I like how you smirk uncomfortably as you tell me your future plans and how they evoke current fears.

You’re a universe and I believe in every star in your galaxies. That’s why I every time I touch you; I wish you the best.

I like knowing your pain. Even if I wish you never have to go through it again.

I adore all the parts of you both simple and complicated.

I know you may have shed tears and it felt like you have cried rivers. Please never forget every aspect of you is truly an ocean.

I can’t control what you see when you look in the mirror, but in my eyes you are beautiful.

Your body is the paintbrush and life is the canvas.

You are both art and the artist.

I want to know what you like about yourself.

Too often the question is “What would you change?”.

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