stretch marks
sometimes i stand naked
my hands tremble and
i gently touch myself
my empty body is covered in flecks of sun.
i look in mirrors and they show my reflection
broken and cracked
silver scars line my legs and breasts
i have lived with and loved in and hated and loved these
lightning strikes etched into my flesh.
but now, sometimes,
i glitter in the light
liquid white-gold fills my pores and
i’d become beautiful again
(as if i hadn’t been beautiful before…)
my skin shines
and i glow
i learn to love the scars and the spots that show how i have grown.
i am full of worth and beauty
and now i can see my body for what it is:
(i am flawed but that only makes me more beautiful)
i am filled with dazzling starlight
and it is bursting out.
Kit Wagstaff
