Your Constellated Dead Cosmos (Prose-poetry)
Acnes should not make us feel less hu(wo)(man).
You grew up with scars you would come to think that everyone would thought that you were harassed by a damn werewolf. You woke up to the world comparing yourself to something celestial but a bit weird celestial comparing. You believed that you are the craters of the moon, just the craters perhaps because you think you do not glow and you are too ugly to be compared with its beauty.
And you blamed those people who named you what you have become, words they said that you grew up believing, that you are ugly. However, you blamed yourself more, you loath yourself more because it was a pity thing to feel those as a kid but it was more pathetic to grow up with those and could not help yourself. You ended up feeling so low and so bad.
But it was never your fault, I hope you will realize that. It is just right to blame the people around you, curse them.
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Try to tell the universe how have you gone mad and low with their hurtful words that got you wounded on how they used to call you scarred and ugly—and these would be Her reply:
ㅤㅤㅤㅤi. If you think that you have gone ugly because of those scars and spots, think twice, and may you realize that with or without it, nothing has changed, you are still you Veronica, Alina, John, or whatever precious name you have. You are beautiful that is something that cannot be changed nor undone.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤii. You know it will take a lot of courage to face the world so instead look at those stars, especially the moon and ask “how are they shining so bright betwixt the darkness that surrounds them?”
Because they are a part of the universe? Because even though the moon has scars and the stars are short-lived they have something in common? What are these commons? Did they find the light even in the dark? Or maybe they know themselves more than anyone?
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYou can still find yourself.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤiii. Lastly, curse countless times those discriminants with their so-called “standards”. Never let their standardizations cut you off, you are you and you are so fucking perfect with those imperfections. You are not flawed, those people with their trash minds are.
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Now look in the mirror.
Those constellated dead cosmoses etched on your precious skin was never been a black hole for their judgment. You should not feel ashamed of having those. After all, it was your mark of the hardships and battles you have fought. It nonetheless lessens your beauty in fact, it showed the power that only you possessed that after you have suffered from breakdowns, anxieties, and distress—you stood still and remained brave. Courageous. Aren’t those an act of being beautiful?
A PROSE-POETRY revised from my account on Hive! I am @rene.neverfound there as well! Thanks for reading!
Hi! I am Renésmee Neverfound ㅤ
An aspirant writer and artist. To be found is my greatest dream and never be lost. Hi, I am @rene.neverfound, you can call me Rene or Esme if you like. I specialized in prose-poetry and poetry, and now I am trying new things and writing styles. I love learning! I am a 17-year-old girl living life in the Philippines. And my face-claim here is @gabi_wahl on ig. I am a total bookworm and a grade 11 student with an undying passion for writing and art. Having many dreams is a funny mess because I get confused most of time with regard to what course should I take in college. I want to be an astrologist, a doctor, a journalist, an author, a professional artist, an archaeologist, and many more I forgot to remember while writing.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not own any of the photograph used. I made sure to ask @gabi_wahl on ig for her permission to use these. All credits are rightfully given to @gabi_wahl on ig for the photographs used.
