Chocolate strawberries

And she opened her eyes

And found what was lost to begin with

She began to bleed and bleed

And she bled until she was as white as a ghost

She opened her eyes to never be opened again.

For many by Shane Koyczan

 To those of you who need to hear this, I know I do. Really listen to the words Shane is trying to compose. 

The question has been posed to many. If you could change anything about your body what would it be? Me Id change my nose turn it into a rose so every time you lean into smell it I could steal kisses. I know this is not what you had in mind that you were only trying to find some simple thing about me that I would change as if my body were a rack of Scrabble tiles that I could rearrange in exchange for better letters because it seems the world has got us all trying to spell...beauty, so here we sit shearing metal sheep for the steel wool that we will use to scrub away our flaws hoping each eye of every beholder is an artist that draws gentler conclusion then the ones we have about ourselves how can we be beautiful in the world that dells no deeper than our skin. The question has been posed too many so often that wishing wells spit back penny's sick of the copper poisoning they get from our dreams seems we still think we can buy our desires for the price for next to nothing we've been stuck in side of a mentality that suggests changing yourself is limited only to your dimensions as if our body's are customizable but our attitudes or beliefs are not we behave as it thought Is not malleable as if ideas are inflexible we pull the trigger on the question and expect something simple in response we expect no shallots about the bullet hole and detachment about the bleeding we expect not needing to spend a  second thought of thinking about it we expect answers to be immediate we are expected to have thought about this our entire lives and now we are being asked so be quick if you could change anything about your body what would it be? Me I'd change my eyes into your eyes so every time I look in the mirror I could see what you think needs changing we've been listening to something that's only function is to see we've been basing beauty on our eyes the same tool we first learned to judge with blacksmith who are prejudice to fat to thin bad teeth worse shin no chin big nose small beast long toes poor looks cheep cloths it goes to short to tall to nothing to all the things we call each other in the name of beauty are ugly and that they allow no contrast symmetry as if we want the grandness of the theater without the sets the bad choices we make without regrets the bright shiny future without the dark tragic history we forget that muscles don't mean strength of character we blur the line between the two and forget that pretty doesn't always mean nice the same way beautiful doesn't always mean an easy life we live in a world where children would rather go under the knife than to see who they will grow up to be the question has been posed to many  me I'd change my bowels into a remote control so I could fast forward through this shit change my chest into a jukebox and hit them all because someone's gotta change the same old song we've been singing as if bringing each other down is getting us anywhere other than no where fast we are building a world where people curse the DNA passed down to them because when you ask the question of you could change anything about your body what would it be what your really asking me is is there some part of myself that I hate great question and it has been posed to many but we are not Mr. or Mrs. Potato head go customize a friend go Photoshop a lover go put your attitude on the cover of a magazine and see if anyone calls it beautiful you act as if you won't one day be old as if you won't one day shake your head at all the product they sold you promises of vanishing lines and tighter shin  surgeries that do nothing other than dress up your skeleton as if there is no longer any grace in getting old or being who you are they put bullshit in a jar and convinced you you need this pretty is a lie designed to sale  you back to yourself but you are still you underneath the biceps or the great hair underneath everywhere they said you could hide underneath the color contact blue eyed picture of perfection and right down pass the cynu  that keeps it all In place you are still you you are still bound to your own proclivities and prospectives 

Of purence forgives nothing it can not excuse you from being who you are and if who you are has not come far enough to know that then go stand in line with Monotony we will still be here living up to the more intangible qualities in the definition of beauty you asked us if we could change anything about our body's what would it be for many it goes far beyond bone or skin many would change their minds into doors and they would leave them open to let you in. 

I love

I love the sensation of warm sand squishing between my toes as I walk along the beach. 

I love the smell of hairspray and my mothers perfume infused together on a Saturday at eight in the morning. 

I love cuddles and Netflix but leave the "Netflix and chill" outside the door. 

The way you use to smile at me, I loved.

I love the soft clicks of keyboards.

I love the smell of rain. 

I'm in love with the night, the stars, the phases of the moon because it reminds me that like the moon we allhave parts of us hidden but let other personalities show one day at a time. 

I'm in love with strangers I've never even met before. 

I love the way noses crinkle as they bellow into laughter. 

I love raindrops upon roses. 

I love dead roses. 

I love the eyes, the gateway to the soul.

But I do not love the screens that replace beautiful faces and the text 'hey:)' instead of hello. 

I do not love the pressure of mixed emotions and feelings pressing on your chest. 

I love the wind weaving through my hair

The way it slashes across my skin, leaving skid marks. 

I love love.