He Said

He said that I was a beautiful affliction.
And looking at him,
I wasn't sure if I should have been
Offended or flattered
That he knew me so well.
So, I stayed.
He said that every time he kissed me he tasted tears,
That he could feel sadness perpetuating my soul.
That every time we met, it always changed him,
Rearranging his very being to make room for me
And my surplus baggage.
He said that I treated my stretch marks as ticks,
Illuminating my failures,
The fall and eventual rise in numbers.
But he saw them as battle scars,
Marking my journey to the shape I present to him now:
A soft and indestructible form.
He said that I was the embodiment of humanity,
Full of potential and sometimes falling short.
But because I was covered by grace,
I knew, despite the bruises and
My bleeding knees, I can get back up
And try again, even if there's a chance for fall.
He said that the shards, the brokenness of my soul
Made me perfect, made me beautiful.
That he loved to see me move
Because I always found a way
To capture the sun's light and cast rainbows
Onto the soles of my feet.
He said that he knew what I was thinking right now.
That he felt the tinge of regret running through my veins,
As if I could have loved him more.
But, reassuring me, he said that it was enough.
That I was enough, that I was all he needed.
He kept saying these things and I stayed,
Listening because I couldn't leave:
His hand laid comfortably inside my chest,
In between my lungs, helping me breathe
He knew me and I knew him
And we both knew what I had become.
His.

ThrowBack 3.0

Conceited (If You Only Knew)

I stand before the mirror

Consumed by this image

Enticed by my shape

Enthralled with my legs

Enchanted and in love

With what God has bestowed

Some say I am conceited

But I'm really not

...

Okay, maybe a little

*kanye shrug*

But, am I really to blame?

Can you really find fault

With the fact that I refuse to stand here

In war with glass

And list and point out

All my flaws

All the things I wish I could change about myself

My hair that never looks right

My belly that can never hide

My skin that can never be clear

And start this endless trend

Of self-hatred that slaps Him in the face

That makes me feel like...

Nothing...

Nothing that I ever want to feel again

But no one is perfect

And I do get caught up

Lost in reflection

Drowning in those damned thoughts

Of feeling worthless and stuff

Then I smile

Cause I have a beautiful smile

And nice eyes

Can't forget about my awesome boobs

And my great...

Yea, I am conceited

But so what?

(Who's gonna check me, boo?)

I was born this way

The 11th

Today is the 11th and I thought I should do something just because it's the 11th =) (one of my favorite numbers if you couldn't guess)

Despite claiming otherwise, I think a lot. If you could spend a day in my head, you just might be shocked by what goes on in there. I have bits and pieces of stories, poems and dance moves swirling around...

But don't worry, I'm not here to drown you with my silly nonsense (maybe another day?). This post is a continuation of yesterday's.

I love spoken word. I have a YouTube playlist dedicated to the art that breathes life into those words. I know that the written word, in and of itself, has power but having someone say it out loud makes it more poignant.

So the following videos are the ones I listen to when I become worrisome.

The first one, called Too Creative (lyrics), by Propaganda is the better version of yesterday's post.

He speaks the truth. I'm terrified, I'm scared out of my mind. If you ever watched The Hangover Part 2, there's a scene where the guys go to Alan's house and Alan classifies himself as a stay-at-home son. And from that moment on , I thought I would go down that same road.: after a couple of failed attempts, I would go back home and live under my parents roof where it all started and die there. 

Yes, I am crazy and I probably should be committed but for some reason I think that I was made for an average life. I won't push myself because I believe that everything I will do will come out so-so. 

But what a lie, what a lie, what a lie. Listen to the video again and again until it sinks in. You have it in you. Whatever He placed in your heart, He has plans to bring them out. Don't let the circumstances fool you. He's got you and you don't need anything else. So, STRIVE (lyrics).

My favorite poem, by Carvens Lissaint and Miles Hodges, to rejuvenate my spirits. Everyone gets tired. Everyone gets discouraged. Everyone wants to quit but the only way to get anything is to keep on going and this poem reminds you of that.

Read the words for yourself. If they don't move you, then read them again because they will. They have for me.