Life is beautiful.
Inspired by my dear friend Virginia.
Life is Beautiful.
It was scrawled across her chest like a testament to existence in general; she wore it proudly like a banner proclaiming her religion. She inspired so much awe in me as she walked confidently through life with this marring of flesh across her body, head held high and eyes wide. They said, let me in, I'll change you.
I oftentimes watched as she fingered her collarbones, so in awe of how delicate her fingers were as they played symphonies across her milky flesh. The map of the stark black words were lost in those euphoric moments, and I felt rather than read: Life is beautiful. They were words that began to seep into my very persona, and every time her prescense was aside me they tickled at the soles of my feet, wishing to be let into the real soul burning brightly in my innards. In these moments of awareness I paused, feeling rather than knowing the truth in her skin.
I wondered what it was like to use your body as a gospel, letting words guide your steps if you looked down at yourself long enough. There was a time when I asked her, and all she did was stare at her arm for a moment and smile at me, turning away and continuing forward. She was an enigma, floating through life with no strings attached, something I could not comprehend but wanted so desperately to be a part of.
I remember the day these words were set into her skin, with the buzzing of a needle that grazed her freckle brushed body. Her clumsy hands held mine as tightly as she dared, and I felt like my bones were going to break, shatter into a million tiny pieces. I know that if she had held that hard that my very being would have leapt to the stars, as my appendages would become merely stardust and quake achingly and uselessly in my ancient bruises.
If there is one thing in this world I have loved flawlessly, it has been that being called Life. It makes love to me in every orifice, it whispers sweet nothings in my ears, and it throws shit at me as I cry my soul onto the floor between my feet. I thought I had never seen it, I thought I had never seen it until I saw the ink set into her skin and the ringing in my ears let me know that it had been there before me the entire time. I felt Life take me in its arms and hold me and soothe me and I murmured into its silky chest;
You are beautiful.
Life is Beautiful.
It was scrawled across her chest like a testament to existence in general; she wore it proudly like a banner proclaiming her religion. She inspired so much awe in me as she walked confidently through life with this marring of flesh across her body, head held high and eyes wide. They said, let me in, I'll change you.
I oftentimes watched as she fingered her collarbones, so in awe of how delicate her fingers were as they played symphonies across her milky flesh. The map of the stark black words were lost in those euphoric moments, and I felt rather than read: Life is beautiful. They were words that began to seep into my very persona, and every time her prescense was aside me they tickled at the soles of my feet, wishing to be let into the real soul burning brightly in my innards. In these moments of awareness I paused, feeling rather than knowing the truth in her skin.
I wondered what it was like to use your body as a gospel, letting words guide your steps if you looked down at yourself long enough. There was a time when I asked her, and all she did was stare at her arm for a moment and smile at me, turning away and continuing forward. She was an enigma, floating through life with no strings attached, something I could not comprehend but wanted so desperately to be a part of.
I remember the day these words were set into her skin, with the buzzing of a needle that grazed her freckle brushed body. Her clumsy hands held mine as tightly as she dared, and I felt like my bones were going to break, shatter into a million tiny pieces. I know that if she had held that hard that my very being would have leapt to the stars, as my appendages would become merely stardust and quake achingly and uselessly in my ancient bruises.
If there is one thing in this world I have loved flawlessly, it has been that being called Life. It makes love to me in every orifice, it whispers sweet nothings in my ears, and it throws shit at me as I cry my soul onto the floor between my feet. I thought I had never seen it, I thought I had never seen it until I saw the ink set into her skin and the ringing in my ears let me know that it had been there before me the entire time. I felt Life take me in its arms and hold me and soothe me and I murmured into its silky chest;
You are beautiful.