The flowers on the side of the road are works of art.
They never downed a diet shake or smeared makeup on their petals
yet we pluck them from the ground to marvel at their beauty.
How then, darling, can you tell me you do not see in yourself what I see?
Your soul is worth innumerable rose petals,
and your mind is sharper than the thorns.
So please, lift up your leaves to the sun and scream that you are here.
Know that you are endlessly loved and your allure is not matched by the lilies
or the roses
or the tulips.
Please, remember this the next time you twirl a stem between your fingers.
Don't you dare tell me that you are less lovely than
a plant in the dirt.