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.