You better believe I was dressed to kill today.
Lady in a long black evening dress with her shiny lace bra peeking through.
Kept warm by her cashmere shawl and a black winter jacket shared by her sister.
Eyes done up pink and gold and dark red lips.
Worked all day. Sincerely cheerful, I played with people all day. Dancing around and joking.
I only felt it shoved in my face commuting.
But these heels walked proud today.
Now thrown in a corner, and my dress in a pile by my bed.
I smile as I was going to write about how sultry I am..
I'm a complete wreck. Makeup everywhere, dishes and emergen-c packets on my bed.
Because I've got a head cold. Which is not a surprise with how I've been eating lately. I want to bike tomorrow. I hate waiting for that goddamn bus and walking in the cold. I'd rather be flying in the cold and heated up by my own exertion.
Like I need anyone to tell me that I'm pretty on valentine's day.
Me being pretty is all many ever see and it is the bare surface of my worth.
My gut. My power. My fire. That is nothing the public eye can see.
Save for my blogs. :)
Anyone can be pretty.
My ethics and how I stand by for what I believe in.
How I choose my battles. How I compromise.
How I open my heart. Again. Again and Again. Even when the outcome seems futile.
My undying faith in humanity.
These are a few of the many things I hold inside of me that help determine my worth.
When I find a suitable partner, those will be the things in me that he loves.
He will love that I am wild. He will share my unquenchable thirst for knowledge and adventure. And we will curse the night and bless the world and live to the fullest.
Forever, amen.
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