A Present To Myself
I wallow in self-hate pitifully often
Nitpicking every single flaw I have
But sometimes when I observe myself
From outside my body
I admire myself
My sturdy vessel that is covered in scars
Child birthing hips
Capable of recreation
Eyes filled with golden nectar
A heart that is home to many
I’m a creation of God
I’m precious for being born
Others might think this is not self-love
You fools do not understand that this is
The epitome of self-love—
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