I’ve often wished for beauty
I think I had it once upon a time
I found an old photo
Where my eyes shone
I was a child
Who only knew simple things
like love, fairies, and dreams
But then somewhere
along the way
that shine was taken
wrested from me
And with each blow of the fist
and each threat of the belt
every hateful, ugly word
came a little more of the world
with its fear, anger, confusion
I don’t think I can be
beautiful again
any shine I’ve tried to put back in my eyes
was chemically induced
and never lasted
But I can aim for dreams and fairies and love
in no particular order
because of that photo
where a child had hope
and thought she could be anything
before anyone could tell her otherwise
and I think somewhere inside
that child remains
and I love her
The Word Rummager 