A Self Portrait Drawn with Words

 They say her eyes are green 

But she likes to say they are hazel

Like the sun setting through the evergreen trees

Her hair like a bright morning

When when sun has just risen

Her skin like hot sand at the beach

 Birthmarks scattered like shells

The tiny scars of life revealed like stars on a dark night

Stretchmarks behind her knees like lightning running through the sky

She says she hates her body

But all the things she calls imperfect are the wonders of life

So next time you see a sunset behind the trees 

Think about her eyes 

And think about how perfectly imperfect you must be to be alive

bumblebea

VT

15 years old

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