Beauty. We strive and cling to it once achieved.

Breasts, muscles, thick thighs, long hair-

We wait for this phase. But when we reach it, we get name called, believed

that we truly are like this

Whore, slut, player-

because once we finally reach this stage, everyone is angry that we made it they didn’t.

Don’t play, you know i’m right.

The phase where you feel nothing, where feelings are a bust.

It took exactly one month for the sadness to go away, another week to stop thinking about him

when the man you prayed for left you in the dust.

And then you remembered that you, YOU, are desirable. Worth more then a Sack Of Diamonds. And men see that.

Snapchats, texts, personal conversations roll through and you play with them.

Lax bros, frat boys, the ones that smoke a little bit too much… the ones you know that lack

so you don’t invest in them

to keep you on track.

Fingers that run across your belly, hands that are pleased to hold you,

next ones up to bat.

willing to send photos of their body so they can get validation from you.

but what am i in the grand scheme of things

when i feel nothing, too.

Now imma tell the world, I ain’t no hussy.

I want to be loved by the one for me, but my heart is on the mend.

it’s ok to play with bodies and faces, but not hearts. Because that can get a lil’ fussy.

So when some boy or girl comes along again ready to play with things other than your hair

you listen to me: you are worth more than a Sack of Diamonds.

more then a glance or a stare,

shot in your direction

you are beautiful now, you were beautiful then

let Jesus things run through your veins instead of lust and alcohol

because you are worth more, and I’ll say that over and over again.