Beauty

I remember very vibrantly
The first time I could look in the mirror and say
"Damn! You're hot!"
I was still an XL then, but that doesn't matter.

Look, I'm not here to tell you that looks don't matter.
Don't be fooled.
Your looks will determine 70% of happiness in the first half of your life
So yes, appearance is important.

But what I want to tell you is that
Nobody knows what beauty looks like
Actually, scratch that!
Everybody knows what beauty looks like!

To me, beauty is the girl with
Red hair and green eyes
Who wears confidence like her second skin.

To you, beauty is the sun kissed blond
With abs of steel that dances around in a bikini.

To you, beauty is the shy overweight guy
Who plays the guitar ever so silent,
But always loud enough for you to hear.

To you, beauty is the ambitious girl
Who just won't get her head out of the books

To you, beauty is the guy in old converse shoes
Who refuses to get politics out of his
Messy, blond hair covered head.

To you, beauty is the guy who sits quietly in the corner
But when he talks about something he's passionate about
His eyes could light up the sky.

The thing is... I don't know what beauty is to you
But I will tell you what it should be

To you, beauty should be
Whatever you see in that mirror.
So go take a long, hard look.

Cicmila

Photographs

Old photographs are everything.
They are backups for our mind. They make sure we don't forget what happened. That family dinner. That night out with friends. That crazy dangerous thing we did together. That hug. That trip.

They are art. We frame them and put them on our walls to make them look nicer. To hide the scars beneath. Because there's no heartbreak that a warming frame of a memory can't fix. Because they fill up the empty space on our desk, there where our work should be, but we would rather just be with the people in the picture.

They are open wounds. They are the friend who doesn't answer your call when you need it most. They are the one who broke your heart, now staring with those bright eyes behind the glass. They are the one you hurt and the one your pride won't let you apologize to.

They are scars. They are the things you need to see to know that there has been worse. They are the faces of those you thought you will never see again, but they are now by your side. They are the time you broke your hand and couldn't play, and the first concert after you've healed. They are the time you cut all your hair of, because your best friend had cancer. But they are now by your side.

They are connections you didn't know exited. They are the place that reminds you of your first kiss, even though it happened miles away. They are the water under the bridge that brings tears to your eyes, and you will never know why. They are the wise words you don't know where you heard, but they guide you through life.

They are gold. They are the moments gone away, never to come back. They are the ones buried beneath the ground, always to love. They are the "I wish I had" and "I should have done it". They are the gears that turn in your heart and the oil that keeps them running smooth. They are all you have of the past.

And yes, some belong in photo albums in the attic, because that makes them even more special when once excavated. But if you let the dust sit for a moment too long, they will be gone forever, so be careful. And the ones on your walls... You will, not once in your life, pay attention to them. They will blend in, become just a thing you pass by every day, but do not be fooled. They are the first thing you will notice if gone.

Cicmila