self love.

words by Marie Rose

i have begun to see the value in solitude

how humbling it is to be reminded that we are all we got

that in the end after everything is over and the night comes to a close, i will always have myself

i have begun to love myself.

i remember days when i used to flip through the catalogs of beauty magazines wondering why my beauty ain't in no magazine cause don't nobody shoot black girls from the projects with box perms and sloppy slang.

those days when i thought that beauty only existed in light browns and pale tones.

i remember days when i would cross my fingers in hopes that someone would like me, hold me, kiss me, entice me with adoration and love.

those days when girls were getting finger popped in school stairways while i popped open my textbooks and read cause nobody wanted a girl that ain't give no head.

i used to hate myself.

i used to wonder when i would get thinner, get lighter, get whiter.

my kinky coils attacked by relaxers and perms that left burn marks on my scalp, burn marks in my soul

she cried.

my poor soul cried out for me to let me be and just be me.

i used to hate myself.

hiding from cameras, and packing 17 different filters onto my pictures before i would 'ok' them.

swipe, click, sepia, black and white, lighten, lighten, lighten, delete.

i was never enough for myself, when the truth was i just didn't notice myself and all i had to do was open my eyes.

lord i wish i was smarter, i was my own demise.

i tortured myself with things of no worth, tormented myself with words that hurt

i hated myself.

i hated my smile, i hated my skin, i hated the person i was within

i hated my hair, i hated my voice, i hated my shape, i hated myself, i hated myself, i hated myself.

i hate myself.

my self hatred stems from a place of resentment for my past self.

she used words in a way that didn't leave room for much else.

she said so much without saying anything, and still, she was never heard.

if only she could have learned that the crafting of words really only works when you have something to say

that silence is golden because talk is cheap and no one listens anyways

she conjured up scenarios, and made my life hell, all because she hated herself.

she called out for help, but upon deaf ears it fell, if only, if only, if only

fuck, why didn't you try harder?

why didn't you push your words into their heads, make them hear you?

silence is golden, silence is golden, silence is golden

yet, you don't really hear me.

i'm screaming in a quiet room full of deaf ears

I used to hate myself because i was weak

and now silence



has given me the power

silence has shown me my strength

silence. is golden.

and hatred is futile.