underneath my spotted skin

my skeleton knows nothing of my appearance

knows nothing of what I think of it

is only the support beams and foundation

of the powerhouse that keeps me living in it

The exterior means nothing without the people who fill it

what meaning is there in a pretty house that remains empty

Inside my walls are coated in murals like the Sistine Chapel

Michangelo spent four years painting it

and my self worth will never be measured by

how many people are willing to accept it

changing myself will never be an option again

there was a time when a person made me reconsider what I wanted

and I've realised that isn't the way love should happen

love allows for growth- allows for stretch marks and scar lines

it lets people live their own lives

not just to satisfy another person

I satisfy myself

my body is mine

and despite what people think of it

my opinion is mine

and I need no one to validate it

I am strong, independant

my beauty runs deeper than my bones

despite how far they protrude through the surface of my skin

I am more than it

more than the western ideals of beauty and appearance

more than their expectations because

I know this is what makes me flawless