Dear Aaliyah.
Dear Aaliyah. button poetry stories
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anyree0
anyree0 Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   4 months ago
Dear Aaliyah, Tugging at your body, as if you were playing war, will not help. You pull and stretch as if you were elastic.

Dear Aaliyah.

Dear Aaliyah,

Tugging at your body, as if you were playing war, will not help. You pull and stretch as if you were elastic.

You wear oversized clothes like a baby trying on their mother's attire because you know. . .

dress up and you hide everything from everyone even those brown eyes but brown is just one simple word your eyes are the earth's soil after it rains, the forest autumn leaves,

they fall but look as beautiful as ever. I will tell you again and again that you are beautiful, until it is stuck in your brain like gum on the bottom of your shoe.

My love for you Aaliyah is strong but you do not notice it. You quest out for someone else's love, someone who isn't yourself.

Aaliyah, you think long and hard everyday, waking up early so you can pick out the "correct" outfit,

making sure your hair doesn't look like a bird just moved out because your hair wasn't worthy of its birdness.

You think you are not enough, like for example let's say your search history on pinterest you look at alien logic, drawing, paintings, new books,

but you like to look at outfits outfits you think are never going to fit you in any time of your life because these girls have a measuring strip inside of them that pulls and pulls

every time they try to show some tummy, you have this demon always breathing down your neck saying things like , "how about we get the salad instead" or when you are looking in the mirror,

"you see that stomach..disgusting, maybe we should stop with the chips.

" so you do you stop with the chips and the ice cream but baby you have got to understand that this body of yours is normal I will quote GaGa all the time if needed but only because you

were born this way and even if you don't believe in heaven I will always see an angel.

Sincerely, Your Body.

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