I think it’s funny how our bare faces have become a novelty.
Like I’m being brave by showing you mine.
When did our clothes become something that hid our shapes and accentuated the things we wanted to promote?
When did our skin become a problem?
I am not here for your viewing pleasure.
My body is not a block of stone for you to imagine the pieces that you would carve out.
This face, this body, they are vessels that hold my infinite worth.
The container for the heartbeat that pumps vision and vibrancy through my bones.
I don’t know about you, but, I’m done with flattering.
I’m finished with highlighting my ‘best features’ and downplaying my ‘flaws.’
I dress for my own pleasure.
I wear make-up for my own delight.
My body, my face, they are everything that they’re meant to be.
I will eagerly choose to exist as I am, neither flawed or remarkable.