I would love to be up for interpretation,
Like I was a beautiful abstract at a gallery,
People would stop and breathe me in thinking,
"God, it's so beautiful," taking with me which parts they chose,
They could break me apart piece by piece and I wouldn't be offended
At the end of the day, I would still be art, I would still be beautiful
They do that to me now, but it's not the same,
Breaking me down, piece by piece,
Talking about me like I'm not there,
Staring me down and hating my colors,
"God, she's so disgusting," picking apart which things they hate,
I am offended because at the end of the day,
I'm not a painting or a sculpture,
I'm a human.
1 comment:
I do interpret you.
I just do not carry away a part at a time, instead I prefer you, Jodie, as a whole.
I appreciate every ounce of beauty that you have, and you possess so much.
Those that pick you apart are jealous, are envious and trying to make themselves feel better by tearing you down.
Their words aren't worth a second thought.
Their glances aren't worth considering or caring about.
Those of us that know you, instead, study you in awe, lovingly, with tender hands, and softened stares, because we know just how beautiful you truly are.
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