I like paper mache trees
They're beautiful
I like the whole idea behind them
Taking something of no importance and creating something
beautiful
something artistic
something someone would look at and appreciate without acknowledging its journey
Because all it will ever be is just a 'decorated piece of artwork'
famed by many because of its beauty
No acknowlegment of how it got there
No acknowledgement of what was used
No acknowledgement of even who made it
Just a simple glorified piece of artwork
That kind of sounds like life doesn't it?
How life glorifies the ones that are defined as being 'perfect'
As if there is no other syllable or noun in the oxford dictionary
that can define a person other than saying
She's perfect, he's goodlooking, she's hot
As if we're little paper mache trees lined up in tills just in time for christmas
Because our self worth will only ever be measured by our outward appearance
As if an unplanned disaster while making the plaster
instantaneously makes a whole cycle of 'unwanted' rejects
Like our life choices and mistakes instantly determine who we are
and not who we became
because people never stick around to listen to the boring old story
We're judged based on what we see in the mirror
not what's inside it
that scar that takes up most of her right cheek
from an epic night of adventure with friends
that left her with more than what she anticipated
but with memories that'll will last for decades
gets stares because it looks like tiny specks of ugliness
on expensive china
We are beautiful souls
Little paper mache trees, roots branching out into the world
Telling the stories no one ever wants to hear
Because fuck it!
Our stories were meant to be heard
Our stories were meant to last for generations
Our stories were meant to be revolutionary
Our stories weren't meant to be locked up in caskets
because of people who simply can't understand the significance
Of having someone who is more than their outward appearance
Someone who doesn't stress about how many people
will judge them because of their unblended makeup
their acne scars
their emotional 'imbalance' as they like to call it
We are gorgeous
We are alive
48000 beats of life run through us every hour
for us to say ' I've had enough'
As if the random stranger you only passed yesterday
Can dictate how you live your life because of the rude remark
he haphazardly made as he passed by
As you pretended to not acknowledge it
but cried the first minute you got home
We echo life and light when we walk into the world
even when we've been drowning in our own darkness
We manage to fake smiles even when we're
on the last straw
Isn't that bravery?
To always face the world with bright eyes
When our inner flames blew out long ago
Isn't it bravery?
When we smile at someone
that clearly looks like they
Are planning to jump
off the next bridge
because they clearly can't stand the pressure of being stuck between
being yourself and being what the world wants you to be
Our imperfections tell stories that always make us
appreciate waking up everyday to the beautiful sun or cloudy skies
We are intelligent, magnificient and loving pieces of art
Detailed with all our scars and bruises
Branching to every part of our bodies
Telling stories in terms of poetry
We are gorgeous human beings
Just waiting to be heard
