We as a society tend to shame the curves of our spines,
the scars on our hips.
All because self love is too difficult to grasp.
What we forget to see is the stories that lie beneath marks.
The scars on our hips,
paint paths of growth traveling down our fragile skin.
What we forget to see is the stories that lie beneath marks.
The constant tears and struggles.
The constant tears and struggles.
Of comparing the what you call flaws,
To others what you call beauty.
But dear don’t misjudge your simple uniqueness.
Of comparing the what you call flaws,
appears to be vast amounts of art that covers you entirety.
But dear, please don’t misjudge your simple uniqueness.
Because each freckle, scar, or mark that may lie on your skin, is part of you, and is you.
the scars on our hips.
All because self love is too difficult to grasp.
What we forget to see is the stories that lie beneath marks.
The scars on our hips,
paint paths of growth traveling down our fragile skin.
What we forget to see is the stories that lie beneath marks.
The constant tears and struggles.
The constant tears and struggles.
Of comparing the what you call flaws,
To others what you call beauty.
But dear don’t misjudge your simple uniqueness.
Of comparing the what you call flaws,
appears to be vast amounts of art that covers you entirety.
But dear, please don’t misjudge your simple uniqueness.
Because each freckle, scar, or mark that may lie on your skin, is part of you, and is you.