Your life is art

The deep, icy blue of your eyes

And how they glisten amidst a gorgeous, ivory canvas

That canvas is wrinkled with the lines from your smiles

But I would never straighten it out

I would paint along its creases to reveal

Your moments of joy, laughter, and triumph

That canvas has also been touched by scars

Places that you wish you could paint over

But I would leave the scars so people could understand

The hurt, the pain, the parts of your life that were more bitter than sweet

These scars show all the ways that you have hated yourself

But they also tell of all the ways that you have healed

Just because a wound stops bleeding doesn’t mean it doesn’t leave a stain

I can still decipher those violent, red brushstrokes

And I see the beauty in how they are so raw and so real

I know that part of the blue in those eyes is the sapphire shine of tears

When did your first tear fall?

Was it when you looked in the mirror and instead of a masterpiece saw unfinished abstract?

Your reflection puzzled you, it was nothing but unknown shapes and messy lines

And you thought to yourself- if these lines are a map of me, then I don’t know who I am

And your colors seemed too vibrant- you were a collage of scarlets and golds

When all you wanted was to hide among watery pastels and just blend in

Did you feel ashamed of these differences?

And if you did, how did you wear that shame?

Did you wear it like a mask?

 When did society start convincing us that we needed to disguise our imperfections?

Society is not an artist

It sees the world in black and white, but you are so beautiful in color

There’s so much more color on our faces than just makeup

Society turns starry nights into starless nights and it tries to airbrush the Mona Lisa

Your life is art

The cracks within it are just ways to let color seep through

And this paintbrush doesn’t always move effortlessly, but it creates awe and wonder