I am the plain house of envy,
Oh, how I wish I could come out to the world
with my beauty at hand,
To have eyes on me as I walk with pointed toes to the rhythm of hooting cars and whistling mouths.
As I move my hips to the validation of my thoughts,
all praising my existence,
Yes, I wish I could command a confidence that sprouts from flawlessness, never doubting how I am made
As I am made of beauty.
I am like a tight pen of Hate,
Pouring ink onto pages filled with jealousy,
Getting pulled into worlds that smell like danger,
A burning taste like sulphur, destroying the fabric of concrete conversions,
The ones that bloom from sitting in a dark room,
That hate the feeling of introspection,
They would rather swim in the mud and graze through cobble stone,
These worlds crumble when I smile,
They hate when I catch a glimpse of me.
Let me wear all my insecurities one-day,
have them dance on me like fairies of a magical book,
See them through the words I put on myself.
yes, you are beauty even when your imperfections scream louder they will all at once be silenced by your thoughts as you learn to live in them.
They will cower to The Waking of your soul as you stand to no longer live in the world you created together with envy and hate.
As you open your eyes to the beauty staring at you in the mirror,
As you come to meet the beholder, as you embrace her and know her as you.
They will have no power,
They will know you as the elixir,
The one who Conquered her thoughts,
Who defeated the Shadows of envy and defied the ideals of hate.