Why do words of perfection exist,

when beauty isn’t this ongoing list?

And that list goes on and on and on

Until who we truly are is gone.

Over the course of a year,  

I would scream out, but no one would hear.

I finally started to find myself.

My voice was sound, but I had no word.

I didn’t respect myself, so I wasn’t heard.  

I never had issues with body, self image, or any of the physical struggles.

No, The flaws that I saw were in who I was.

I struggled, trying to give myself definition

however, I lacked any awareness of my own cognition.

Society told me that this was necessary.

That I needed to slap, glue, and paste any kind of label onto myself.

People aren’t like going grocery shopping.  

You don’t go into a people store full of sections,

Sections that separate us and define who we are.

You see, personality, sexuality, opinion, and individuality...

It’s all fluid.  We aren’t consistent.  

I had finally learned to love myself.

Learned THAT I loved myself, and I was pretty persistent.  

From that moment,

in that time.

I stopped expecting a name

I realized that my life wasn’t a game.

That life carried more value than I had treated it with.  

I respected my future.  I respected me.

That’s when I finally started to see.

It’s like getting to know a new, interesting person.  

Look into yourself.  

You won’t believe the things you’ll learn about the person that you were born as.