Loving Yourself?

Yes, there is a vision board on my wall

While there are many body types I see, I still fall

Grey scissors have cut through figures in zines

I wonder if the world even sees me

I know that I write in thick red lines

I curve my fountain pen until it dries

I thought about how I wasn't writing enough gold

Maybe my writing will grow stale, so very old

At one point, self doubt consumed me

There is no way I can make myself into clay

To mold, to change, to be different from yesterday

From my fingertips, I am leaking silver

It is a color that shines on shoes and on mirrors

I know that I have improved from my mistakes

It is hard to revel in my own poor takes

The way that my hair falls down, black as night

I hold onto my ancestral image with all my might

So, I have ignited a change in how I look at myself

It is okay to be loved by you alone

Not one person can be a savior, you know

I feel that even if I am strange, frazzled, and bent

I can still love the way that I am

My white brain waves are heaven sent