My body is a work of art,
It sounds corny to say.
Implying God sat sculpting a perfect heart,
Adding little bits of clay.
He forgot a few things,
Important screws and bolts.
Others he screwed so tightly,
There’s no changing the mold.
My legs are too thin,
My belly too round,
I smile with a crooked grin,
But mostly stare at the ground.
But someone thinks I’m cute,
My mommy and I.
Starting off mute,
I soon learned I could cry.
Learned I could enchant them with soulful blue eyes,
Fill silence with words that paint the whole sky.
Sculpting with words,
I nurtured my soul.
Creating my reality into something beautiful.
And so, I love myself,
My body is a work of art,
Every single part,
But especially, my growing mind and my gentle bleeding heart.
