By Natalie Edmond
I’m trying to love myself
but I’m tethered to the parts of myself I despise
bound to the endless tides of self loathing
Until I claw my way to the shores of self acceptance
grains under my fingernails
Self love is a lobotomy
Self love is gospel
Yet
in an exhaled breath
blasphemy
bullshit
I would know
I barely ever leave a mark
never pierce myself with the promises of a renewed mind
barely scratch the surface of optimism despite adversity
Never close my legs to men that always want to devour
never savour
self worth
a significant piece of a puzzle
yet the hardest piece to connect
Natalie Edmond is a creative writing major at La Guardia Community College whose work explores identity, healing, and the inner lives of Black girls becoming. She writes to honor softness, fire, and the spaces between survival and self-definition.
Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com
