My Body

Standard

From the day I was born my beauty was forced on me

My beauty was to be shared by those around me

My beauty was never mine

From my legs to my hair, my beauty was cherished

My curvy body

My small waist

My long curls

My long lashes

My soft lips

My body was beauty

Beauty forced on me

Appearance was a priority forced on me

Why? I don’t know

By the age of seven, my body was no longer mine, instead, it was taken from the men who turned it into a sex toy

By the age if eight, my body was recycleable; passed from one to another and used up as many times they wished

By the age of nine, my body was a collage of new needs and forgotten futures

By the age of eleven, my body was introduced to new artifacts:

Full breasts and a Nice ass

During my teens, my body was unbearable

My body became a temple where I could walk in and worship all my hate to it

**

At age fourteen my body found true love, but not from me

My body received uncontidional love, but not from me

My body was foreigned to me

I only saw it as a dirty dish rag and it didn’t matter how many times I tried to wash it or change it

It was still a rag

My beauty was forced on me and used against me

My beauty introduced me to hell

Before the age of 22, I couldn’t bare to look at my body naked

I felt the filthy hands of my abusers

I heard the echoes of perverted men and prideful women

I smelled the breaths of those who forced my body on them

I felt the hundreds of eyes starring down at me

I couldn’t breathe, so I didn’t look.

At age twenty two, I remember standing naked in my bathroom. I looked at my body from head to toe and whispered You are beautiful

Not an ounce of belief, but I said it

Now, at age 24, I am laying on my bed

Shirtless

Braless

You are beautiful

This is my beauty. This is my body. This is me.

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3 thoughts on “My Body

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