The Body I Wear
There are no flaws with the body I wear.
There may be some marks,
Some scratches, some dings,
From the wear and the tear.
The finish does fade
And the contours change.
You may see used, abused, or damaged.
I see no flaw with the body I wear.
In your eyes, I have stretch marks.
In mine, they're my battle scars.
To you, I have red, chapped lips.
To me, they've grown stained
From the blood of those who told me
I was far from being perfect.
What you see are freckles
Like dirt upon my skin.
What I see are my own constellations.
When you look at my burns,
You see ugly scars.
When I look at my burns,
I imagine the dragons I've handled.
This body is mine
And it's lived through the years.
Each "flaw" that you see
Is a story to me.
I pretend that the cuts
Are from steel swords.
I pretend that the bruises
Are ash from burning pyres.
This body has been used,
That part is true.
I see this as the body of a hero.
This body is Cleopatra.
I find no faults.
This body is Elizabeth I.
Not a single imperfection.
This body is Daenerys Targaryen.
It is immaculate.
There are no flaws with the body I wear.
This skin is my armor.
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