To make up for all the stuff I heaped on myself
All the crap I have carried from childhood
Is it weird that I say I love myself in the mirror,
That I look sexy and hot?
Why don't we question when we say
We hate ourselves in the mirror,
That our breasts sag, that we are ugly?
Is it weird that I hold myself
When I get angry?
Like, I literally wrap my arms around myself
It's okay, it's okay.
And sometimes I will rock myself
Whispering sweet nothings
Yet it seems acceptable
To hit and abuse our own skin
When we are angry
We don't question
Why we stand very very very still
Repulsed to touch any part of ourselves.
I am learning
To f a l l
Yet the world sees this as cocky
Have these people ever
Rub their bare arms long and slow
It awakens things in me
My own sensations
That God has graced me with.
Is that so bad?
To take long perfumy showers
And to fully enjoy it?
Is it so wrong
To go out on a date with yourself,
Writing love notes and sticking them in your purse
To cherish them for later?
I want to learn
How to fall
So much I learn
As I caress myself to sleep.