On Being Unloved, Which Is Not To Say I’m Unloveable

​I take up yoga because you say she wasn’t flexible enough
And I swallow my wit because you say she wasn’t serious enough.
I wait for your desire to rise because you say she couldn’t get enough,
But the bold truth is that for you I am entirely
Too much.
– Not too much me, don’t mistake me,
I know I am enough,
But too much for you to have,
You don’t deserve,
Your heart is not big enough
To love all of my awesome.

I write and delete texts
Because you say good-morning-I-love-yous are stupid
And I stop wearing lipstick because you say
You don’t like make-up
But the truth is that I am too much –
Too in love, too pretty,
– Not too much me, don’t get it twisted,
Your hands were not big enough
To receive my big love.

I twisted myself into strange shapes
To please you,
Became a shadow of myself
To keep you.
I didn’t know that you were not mine to keep,
That what you have between your legs is
Actually community dycke.
I didn’t know then what Sister Waheed taught me
About not making homes out of people
And that trying would kill me.
I’m not one for drama so I won’t say you killed me
But I am one for truth and the truth is I almost killed me.

I forgot my divinity and fell in love with yours
But that could not work –
I could not breathe
I suffocated
Under the burden of becoming yours
When I needed to fill my lungs
With the joy of becoming me
In the presence of you.

I don’t blame you,
Not at all, not even a little bit:
I am pearls and I am rubies,
And I am not for everybody.

I stand tall because I survived you and I
Lean back –
– Too divine to live in the shadows.
My heart may crack
But my light will not be dimmed by such as you.
You too were light and like the moth I hungered
To be consumed in your inferno –
You’re going supernova
And I refuse
To settle for what’s left-over.
I cannot do for you what you ought to do for yourself
But I can do for me what you thought I couldn’t.

I can choose me and I can walk my path
And I can wear this tiara
Until my king gives me his crown.

This might be cliched but cliches are that for a reason:
That you do not see my worth does not make me unworthy

-Beauty’s Daughter


3 thoughts on “On Being Unloved, Which Is Not To Say I’m Unloveable

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