You think am pretty?
Do you think they all love me?
Looking up at the dark sky, leaning on the balcony,
Not knowing if the questions asked were appropriate enough for the winds to reply back.
But they did, the breeze was so strong that she tiptoed. Not ready to accept it she responded back saying,
The breeze blew again whispering “hush” into her ears but she still didn’t believe and cried herself to sleep.
We’re all fighting ourselves to be pretty enough, to be loved enough, to be good enough and questioning the world what can we do to be “just enough“?
The tale as old as time, what we seek is what we’ve left behind.
The fairy tales our mother’s and our grandmothers recited to us when we were younger were meant to take the fear away, to keep those tears at bay.
The tale as old as time, too afraid to love ourselves, hiding away in pain.
A miracle, a magnificent miracle is what you are.
That is what we ought to Believe.
Time and again
Day and night
Even when the seasons change
You’ll be the same
Tale as old as time
Hold yourself close
Let the magic of self-love spill
Like confetti everywhere and out the window
Love thy self to be just enough
Enough for your own self.