To the woman who falls in love at least 3 times a week.
I would like to talk to your mirrors,
I would ask them not to deceive you
that your heart is not a Venus fly trap that men are dying to get in.
Love is blind but it should at least point you in the right direction.
You are waiting for hands that don’t feel so foreign
to hear I love you without hidden motives tucked in its curves.
You are an everlasting spring
That would give anything to be sucked dry
You have more purpose than to have people use you as a quencher of thirst.
The cat calls never get old even though you act like they do.
You resemble the image of a woman, who is whole,
But there are holes in your soft tissue
you try to remind yourself that you use to call that spot inner peace.
It weighs you down like bricks on the doorsteps of a
big easy waterlogged house that is never coming back.
Those 3 times that love knocks on your door,
One of your acts of kindness should be for yourself.
You move so fast from rejection that you
Can’t see your blessings staring you in the face.
It is begging you to love the simple things
And stop falling for sinking stones.
Your body is not a storage unit.
It is not a wasteland waiting to be filled.
So the next time your reflection tries to tell you what you need
Tell her you have better things to do like loving yourself.
The one person that needs you the most,
And she will be there whenever you stop looking for validity in shadows.