Reflections bathed in the glory of night
Untouched...unaltered purity in the rarest form
Face singing the hymn of a life well lived
Beauty in its prime
The like of which shall not be concealed
Glowing highlight from nature's contour
For what can diminish my natural blemish?
How do I hide that which is my rightful flaw?
Sermons of enhancement ring in my ear
The stinging sound of imperfections uncovered
As the insults grow louder
Shouting at me to paint over my blank canvas
I trace back to a child
Joyfully unaware of societal expectation
The innocence of clear eyes
Finding beauty along the trace of each crack in the earth
Discovering individuality in all of life's diversity
Squeezing all that's exquisite from the hurtful seams
I stare at her that looks back at me
Seeing with undimmed sight
Greatness formerly taken for granted
Admiration for my worth
Inclusive of all it entails
I leave me unchanged
Wrapped in nature's makeup
Tying up the empty speech
Once known as my anthem
My new foundation defined by value
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder"
And what I behold is a sight to see
With burning eyes of love
I finally see me
About the Creator
Ashlei Nichole
¡Hola Hola! My name is Ashlei. I’m an eager twenty three year old writer who loves the self expression that is poetry. However, I’m not limited to poetry.
I. LOVE. WRITING. PERIOD.
Give me your thoughts and criticisms. Vamonos!
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More stories from Ashlei Nichole and writers in Poets and other communities.
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis6 days ago in Humans
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