Friday, February 29, 2008
how it falls..
and my best friend and roomie's
2 & 3 years old
are looking up from their spot in the tub
and the way the water rolls down
their face is beauty
the way their faces light up
when we run a cup
of soap under the faucet
and bubbles pour out
accompanied by pearls of laughter
the way the smallest
grabs my hand in the hall
and says something
and I later learn that she was validating
all that I am
'it's ok to love women'
acceptance from the mouths of babes
and the way these words just fit
in my mind
she said the beauty of the rain is how it falls
but instead our teenage girls are concerned with shopping malls
and how the words of their peers
determine their 'true' beauty
so they starve themselves
and cry because they're not a size zero
I'm not a size zero
but I am mind
I am curves
that don't quit
I am breasts and hips
into their shit
I refuse to let anyone tell me
that every inch of me isn't beautiful.
that I'm not a goddess in mortal form
that somehow a model's 80lb form
makes her superior
I will not declare myself inferior
because I will love my body
shoulders to hands
head to toes
breasts and belly
and the beautiful
places that only
few others get to know
I've got continents of beauty
that reside inside
of the skeleton that is me
but you won't see that skeleton pushing
through my skin
so I'm sending a message
to the ear of every girl
who is or isn't a size zero
aren't you wondering
who's your little girl's hero?
strung out former child stars?
displaying the symptoms of withdrawal
on reality tv
because they have nothing left to lose
like the best poet you've ever read
losing her muse.
who is igniting a fire in their hearts?
is there a part of them that just wants to say stop?
but they just smile and nod and hide the tears
drying on their cheeks
with layers of liquid coverup
and sticking their fingers down their throat
behind a napkin to be polite
some how it's ok
to throw up
and throw out
every nutritional source
of what you are
I want to show them the beauty of the clouds that make shapes that send
preschoolers into frenzies of wonder:
'that one looks like a truck!'
'that one looks like a flower!'
the beauty of a dozen ladybugs
crawling up the side of a building
every last one of them good luck
if they choose you to land on.
ladybugs don't care about
the size of your thighs
when did we stop worrying about spilled milk, broken crayons, and
when did she forget that you're only supposed to stop being best friends
until after naptime?
when did loving become a crime?
when did guns replace hugs in the schoolyard?
when did hate become okay and have you made a difference in a child's
we've got to get back to the beauty. holding up a mirror to the world's
beat up face and saying 'you are beautiful'.
no matter the size, colour, shape. no matter the accent, homeland, or
a stranger told me yesterday
that I was beautiful
and instead of bowing my head
and getting down on my knees
and acting as if
it was the only compliment
I'd ever received,
I held my head high
looked the stranger straight in the eyes
and said 'I know
and thank you
and you are beautiful, too'
I will not bow down
to societal norms
I will not cry
because I can't fit into the size
twos that you adorn
I will hold my head high
because it's the only way to be
and when you see me
that beauty is me.