Once someone asked me, What happened to you?
What happened to me? What did they mean?
The mirror showed it all.
My shoulders were now sagging and my eyes looked cold.
You would have thought i was born with scars
lining a feeble body
a feeble spirit.
You would never known I could be beautiful.
Not the beauty you find on the pages of magazines
or shown at fashion shows.
My smile was crooked
and my walk had a small limp in it
that if you look close enough you'd see it.
I wasn't beautiful here, now, how was.
I was nothing, I felt nothing,
I was ugly.
The scars that ran blood redder than the evening setting of he sun
were beautiful to me
Dying, sleeping forever, was beautiful to me.
I had forgotten the look of stars in the night sky
I had forgotten babies laughter
and the feel of the wind as i skateboarded
I forgot the feeling of a paintbrush
and a pencil on paper writing precious thoughts.
I had forgotten my beauty.
Today I looked into the same mirror from six months ago.
I didn't wear makeup by the pounds
nor did i have on fancy clothes
or the best jewelry,
But I was beautiful.
I simply wore a smile
and the enthusiasm i had taken off so long ago.
I had clothed myself in the real me.
I was gorgeously freely me.