I.

Tell me
when was it you abandoned a fondness of your own laugh?
that ferociousness reverberating inside your own chest
quiet rumbling like earthquake tremors

You neglect that the scars on your skin
numb to the touch and lovely
are telling of a story, a life

Did you ever possess it?
A fondness I mean, of your own self.

 

II.

You sleep less and less
Brown eyes inky with ambition
Chasing your dreams down with a fire

A job of success
a life of wealth.

You wish to be great
and revered for as such.

You forgot to tell yourself
that you are already full of worth.

I want you to know your heart is made of virtue
more determination than I ever thought humanly possible.

Do not allow yourself to disservice your greatness
Your worth is not measured in success.

It is not the amount of money in your pocket
it is in the imperfect perfection of who you are.

 

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