to my future daughter the first time she realizes not everyone will recognize that she is beautiful

 

To a star crossed miracle, to a creature of my own flesh, my gift from whatever the hell is looking out for me,

do not bury your head

do not start writing the obituary for your allurement,

do not carve here lies sensuality that once was, here lies elegance whispered away like fiction, here lies lost beauty into a tombstone

do not grieve your beauty my dear, for it is still there.

my darling do not worry about a fleeting assessment of you,

the day you start feeling inadequate is the day you should start keeping dead flowers in your room,

when others see decaying brown leaves remind them that this is the remains of a seed that grew through bewitching magic into a symbol of beauty,

the day you start thinking of yourself as lesser is the day you should wake up early to watch the sunrise. The day you should stay up later and sneak out the back window and go on a walk with your best friend, ask her what is the last thing she thinks about each night, show her your favorite constellation, tell her you cannot differentiate between stars and airplanes and her, they all twinkle in the nighttime and take you to places you've never been before,

the day you think you are not beautiful is  the day you should hang mirrors around your entire room so you can never hide from yourself.

The first time someone tells you you are not pretty, push your shoulders back.

if she tells you you cannot run fast, show her how you can walk away.

if she tells you to eat less, my darling, tell her to eat shit.

if she tells you you are a loser, close your eyes and picture your friends faces.

Think of the girl who never left and how sometimes when you look over at her while she’s driving her lips are curled back because her natural resting face is a smile,

Picture the one who makes you feel at home and how every time she sings her hands dart back and forth, dancing along to the sound of her own voice,

Think of the one who’s hands ball up into fists each time she gets anxious, think of her hands think of touching her hands think of your friends hands.

if she tells you you are fat,

if she tells you you are too big,

if she tells you you are taking up too much space,

smile.

Tell her of your thighs.

Tell her how they are a mark of your womanhood,

Tell her how they have been since training bra,

tell her how they jump and run and dance,

Tell her of how they dance,

Show her how they dance.

When you are dancing, you are simultaneously taking up the most space you ever have, but also no space at all.

if she tells you they are thunder thighs shout HELL YEAH but do NOT sell them short they are the whole damn storm.

if when you wear a bikini she points at the stretch marks on the sides of your hips tell her stories of how you once went to space,

How comets naturally hurdle towards you because you are made of collapsed stardust.

Tell her how meteors grazed the side of you and how you refuse to cover the scars because they point you in the direction of the greatness you are orbiting around.

if she tells you your body is a natural disaster tell her about the earthquake that moved mountains to create the curves upon your chest,

tell her of fault lines creating the angles of your shoulders,

tell her of the time the god himself parted the seas to create the lines that frame your mouth when you smile.

Tell her that whenever you walk the earth quakes below you, its belly rumbling with each step you take, reminding you that you are a person.

Tell her that you are a person.

Tell her that she is one too.

 

The first time a boy breaks your heart, Call your Mom. Tell her to buy tissues and Ben and Jerry’s, walk outside, and scream “I AM ENOUGH” so loud the neighbors come out to watch you grow up. My darling love is swimming with sharks, allowing yourself to explore the depths of a world you couldn't before, but recognizing you're gonna get bit, and it's gonna hurt like shit darling when it hurts like shit,

Hold your Dad’s hand in public.

Become smaller and larger and grow up and cry like a baby on your Mom’s open lap.

 

My darling you are finite and this world is strangely infinitesimally expanding, do not let it consume you, do not allow it to let you consume others.

Remind each person that they are just that,

human and temporary and beautiful in all of the most dangerous ways.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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