A long time ago I was made to hate myself. Before then I was unmade, in a matter of words/hours/actions.
Prior to then, I was criminally incomplete, but I was unbroken.
Not all at once, but later
eventually,once I hated myself—
hated my voice, my teeth, my face, and tears
— those I despised.
hated my body, I blamed my skin.
I blamed my sins
I blamed me again.
hate broke me, I broke me again, and again.
A long time ago I was made to hate myself. After then I was making due, finding me again, in a moment/ a day/ a choice
Moving forward I am all me, but not all smooth. I keep loving myself.
Having my beaut, tasting my joy, feeling the tears —those I deserve.
Loved body, I lotion my skin.
, I accept my sin.
, I love me, again.
Love wrote me, gave me purpose again, and again.