Sunny Days Await

Lalala, let’s make out.

I love my mismatched eyes, and the messed up eyebrows arching gracelessly over them. I adore my sideboob spilling out of tank tops, sports bras, fancy dresses. I like the little roll of baby fat behind each knee, reminding me of happy, toddling days. I appreciate the hairs trickling off of my head; they call out humbling words as they fall. I enjoy my twisted spine, each tender nerve a reminder to stand a little straighter, hold my head a little higher. 

I may never be beautiful to other people, never make heads turn as I pass by. I, however, cannot bring myself to care; I find myself endlessly fascinating.