MY ATTEMPT AT REDEMPTION.

i am what isn't most.

i am physically stronger than most (even though i'm not strong enough to turn a stubborn pipe valve with my fingers).

i am more honest than most (even though i can't follow through with my own occasionally found philosophy).

i am more realistic than most (even though it often costs me a sound and temperate reputation).

i am more aware of my dignity than most (even though i struggle to resist and i make those intentional slips).


even though they are unable to slip through a pair of jeans,
and look satisfyingly slim and decently fit,
my thighs are stronger and more shapely than most (even though i'll never come to terms with mod-coined cigarette pants).


although i am shorter than most,
i am more curvy and physically healthy than most (despite my naive disorderedly eating habits).

i am a flawed, finite being.
but a flawed, finite being who looks into the mirror day after day to assess who she sees, who knows what undying guilt feels like, who contemplates over every helping hand she's offered and every bloody nail she's hammered.

i am a flawed, finite being who remembers everyone she's hurt and struck with a fiery blaze and left behind with a blinded gaze.

before i can embrace another, i must embrace myself (including my thighs and derriere).


i may have a black heart now, but it wasn't charred to begin with.