P O R E S

Thu, 03/05/2015 - 15:52 -- AliyahD

Every pore I find god in I learn to see myself clearer 
Even as I step into myself i know i'm getting nearer
Ive learned to see my beauty without the compliment of a mirror. And that shit saved my life. 
My hair my coil and my eyes catch water but only as evidence of how much I can grow
I am worth being remembered before during and after someone tells me so
I am worth being silenced when my eyes have spoken all the words my body couldn't
I am worth being held with both eyes and both arms and two palms that care if my soul turns sour. 
Two palms that hang my scars and stretch-marks across from my stained fleeces second closet top shelf 
I am not beautiful in-spite of but incongruence with everything I hate about myself
And my heart may be thicker but I am beautiful before and after he left 
I see my moms sacrifices in my dark knees and my grandmothers spirit trembles in my throat 
I may not see myself in a picture but I manifest so vividly in all the testimonies I've wrote
I want to love myself so forcefully that it makes its own gravity and emits its own light 
And tucks itself to sleep in the dead of night 
I want to forgive myself for thinking me not enough not quite less of 
Barely there underserving there which and where of
Void of light void of god void of love
I will head high look in a grown mans eyes and will not dare to flinch
I have claimed this space around my feet and make him beg every inch 
I see god in my pores and my skin and bones in my core
And I am not worthy of that kind of mercy
This body Ive cursed that tolerates and holds me 
If my trembling knees, uncertain posture, and incoherent pleads didnt make it clear I need for somebody to know
I am beautiful before during and after I tell myself so

This poem is about: 
Me

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