Thunderstorms.

Thunderstorms. 

How they come and go, 

Sometimes frequently, 

Sometimes not for a long while. 

I am lightening at times, 

I can pounce on 

An emotion, 

A situation, 

And put my entire heart into it. 

I feel the situation 

For myself, 

For the people surrounding me. 

And well, 

It turns out that a lot of times 

I become a Thunderstorm. 

Rain trickles out of my eyes, 

While thunder rolls out of my soul. 

Just remember, 

Storms don't last forever, 

Strong one. 

Those People Will Come.

People approached her with an appeal to her shirt.

I love your shirt.

Gosh, your shirt is beautiful. 

She was polite and said thank you,

With a broken smile.

Other small talk chattered around the compliments.

She left the conversation with an emptiness, 

An emptiness she thought she could never fill.

People were attracted to her appearance:

Her shirt.

Her perfume.

Her bag. 

She had a constant fog of wonder, 

If people liked her soul.

Her shattered heart broke her soul.

It grew bars and barbed wire,

And had a constant thump of caution.

Her heart yearned for more.

More connection.

More love.

More understanding.

The turtle repelled back into her shell.

She wanted to be free.

Not to have the bars,

The barbed wire,

The shell.

Did people like her soul?

The hidden strength,

That she locked up so tightly and frantically,

Had to be released.

She had to give people her soul.

And find people who helped her heart thump without caution,

Without worry.

Strong one,

Those people will come.  

Be You.

It's always best to just be you. 

In a world where there are comparisons everywhere.

Expectations and perfectionism.

Photoshopped women, 

Photoshopped men.

People that seem to have their life, 

Together.

It doesn't matter where you are in life. 

It doesn't matter if you're a mess of emotions.

It's okay you cry in the shower,

Sometimes. 

It's okay you're happy one minute, 

And then stressed and angry the next minute. 

It's okay you have cellulite. 

It okay you can't fit your butt into a pair of jeans,

Size two. 

It's okay your nose is cricked, 

You have pores that trickle across the bridge of your nose. 

The friend you have coffee with,

She doesn't have a cricked nose. 

She always has a smile on her face, 

Her heart is lit. 

Positive energy illuminates her face. 

But your friend has hidden insecurities. 

Imperfections you don't see, 

They don't stand out.

The night before she was up all night, 

Worrying about her brother's abusive relationship. 

She hopes you don't see her stress stains, 

Under her arms. 

Your friend you have coffee with, 

Is jealous of your eyes, 

How they twinkle and sometimes look blue, 

And other times look seafoam green. 

She's jealous of your curves, 

How your chest contains these C sized breasts. 

And hers, 

Barely fit into an A cup. 

You look at your chest and relate it to diet. 

Fat. 

An imperfection.

The imperfections you see in yourself, 

Many others won't notice. 

You. 

You and and all that you come with,

Are beyond beautiful. 

Notice all that you come with, 

The whole package makes you.

You are beautiful in everyone else's eyes. 

Be beautiful for your eyes. 

For you.

It's always best to just be you.  

 

 

 

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