Afraid of Me

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By Jessy Forsmo-Shadid

Can I finally rest? And say that
the test, for now, has ended?
That I can breathe, reflect, be at ease.
Now every tease can cease to exist
in the mist of my today, tomorrow, and hopefully,
hopefully the next day.
“
Please, I pray, I promise to pay attention to
me and not he. I’ll give myself what I need
and sow the seed to grow a better me.”
But broken mirrors, a bent heart, a body
built for no one, beats the brave,
the beautiful, the bottom of who I am.
Me! God, please let me free and give me
courage to see what I have been so blind to notice.
Remind me that my skin is not inferior,
that no one is superior, and that I can be
proud to be where and who I am. Tell me that I’m more
than my chest, my breasts, the shell of my past,
present, and future. Say the things that should be taught
to children, fought by teens, and brought up by
everyone else. Shout from the depths of your soul,
“
Love is important! And so are you.”
Because the girl with cuts, the guy with slits, and people
that seem to miss the point to not be like the him or her
in magazines built with fantasies, live on those words.
Do not whisper and hope to catch ear that’ll hear
and forget the fear of non-perfection. Let it be known
that they are not alone. Let it be heard that love
starts with themselves. You. Only you,
live with yourself for the rest of your life.
Be strong enough to say, I love myself today.

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