One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do is look myself in the eyes and admit I deserve more than I’m being shown,
by myself and those around me.
My body deserves full, sufficient meals
and my mind has a right to clarity.
Decency and patience are not luxuries —
they should be expected by those who consider themselves close.
Half-love isn’t a fair exchange for my full attention
and my heart is worth more than “sometimes”.
I am carved of marble and drapped in silk,
a sister to Athena and kin to Apollo.
My mind is as much a temple as my body
and both should be cherished,
marveled,
wondered.
I must demand more for myself and learn to protest injustices against my mind.
Though I am merely human,
I am made from the same atoms of which compose constellations,
stars whose light died long ago but still beams vivaciously down onto Earth.
I have a right to the space I occupy and air I consume
and I will strike a match to each idea less than that.
Porcelain Prose 