—an ode to being a lot to handle and finally finding the person who can handle it

i refuse

to be scared

of my own

reflection.

my body is not

something to

hide.

never again

will i find

myself

ugly

gross

too little

too much.

i will never

see myself

as anything less

than

beautiful.

—finally

i find

something sacred

in every second

we share

it keeps this love

ethereal

your match

is out there

somewhere

it may just be waiting

to be ignited

—the first spark

people always say:

you can’t love somebody

until you love yourself

and this is wrong.

i’ve loved many

when i could hardly

look at myself in the mirror.

but when you love yourself,

loving another is easy,

like getting new glasses.

you can see the treetops

so much clearer.

it’s so much easier

to read the fine print,

to understand the small moments.

it becomes so much easier

to recognize a truly good thing,

and a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

i put a lock on a bridge

in salzburg austria

with our names

scribbled on it

in permanent ink

i put a lock on a bridge

in a city i dream of

every day

a city i may not

get to see again

for years

i put a lock on a bridge

in a city

that felt more like home

than my birthplace

i wrote the name of the boy

who stole my heart

on a lock on a bridge

in the city

that stole my entire being

does that not

tell you

how much

i believe in us

you call me beautiful

not because you think

i need to hear it

not because you think

i don’t believe it

you call me beautiful

because you want me to know

you agree

—i am beautiful

you are the one thing

i want to just make it.

i could live without you,

but god,

i really don’t want

to have to.

to the city

that reignited my love

for life

and music

and people:

i dream of you

when i sleep

and i wish for you

every morning

and every evening

i walk the streets here

and wish that they pulsed

with music as yours do

i look out my window

and yearn for the alps

and the blue of the salzach

i want to go home

i want to go home

i want to go home

and i swear to god

one day

i am going

to come back

to you

—ode to salzburg

this year, i hang my mirror directly across from my bed. when i lie amongst the blankets, i can watch myself. i am the first thing i see when i wake up every morning. there is a comfort in that, something that makes me feel real.

sometimes, i stare at my reflection while i am naked. stripped down to skin, everything soft and smooth. i trace my fingers over the dimples in my thighs and fat across my stomach. my hands will dance over my chest, and i think there is something special in touching your own body—you will never know somebody else’s more than you know your own. i find that both beautiful and terrifying. i hate to think of all the treasure i gifted those who had me when i did not know my own worth, how many times i left it up to somebody else to figure my body out because i did not find myself wanting to give it the time it deserved.