#rawness

I don't wish to be loved, for I believe to the core of my bones that I do not deserve it. I don't want to love, since I feel it bleeds more than heals. I want love to find me. I want it to crush me, travel through my veins, my skin. I want it imprinted on my lips, my wrists and my hips. I want it to whisper sweet melodies through my ears, to show me the world through its senses. I want to know it wholly. I don't want to be a witness, but its vessel.

Beauty is eternal, ever changing, in an ocean's worth of shades, in colours of nature and of man made, the sun rises into many colours yet is beautiful all hours of the day, and the moon turns many shapes and angles, still loved by poets and those with beauty in their eyes. Whoever came to say beauty is a mould, a single series of patterns, has ceased to be human, has cut off the human rawness inside. Watch me, see me, observe how I weep cries of raging tears, the fire inside me so immense my tears burn into vapour as I feel my chest tighten more every time and my spine crawl into itself more every time I remember humans, foolish beings who limit beauty in a colour and in a face and in a shape like absolute fools, like childish abnormalities, I cry then, but real and pitiful, with realization, humans are ugly and in their ugliness, they turned beauty itself into a creature of human's hands, into ugly becoming, weld from the cruelty of man.