To The Girl Who Is the Sun,
You and I are not the same.
The world, all worlds, orbit your brilliant light – your flaming star, your burning glory.
You would be a champion, a princess, a mother, a legend, a king – All the things that I, now could never be.
You will spin in glorious radiance – and never dare to slow;
Terrified of your guilt and shame.
Desperately blinded by your own light.
In the brilliant black your body is your own. You are valid, worthy, pure – You cling to your delusions, hoping to conform.
And louder the voices they scream, inside your inner dark,
Harder you turn on razors edge, and all the more glorious you are.
You are pink and sparkles and candy and demure apology.
All the things that I, now could never be.
I am so much less, and wish to be less still more.
Less labels, less laurels, less boxes. I wish only to be free.
I would be ravenous, relentless and greedy, unapologetically.
I am honey and flowers and wine and chocolate – the kind that bites the tongue.
I would love and live and laugh and blaze unapologetically.
I will be a glutton for life with all her triumph and despair.
I will be broken and flawed and fractured and find beauty hidden there.
I will hold my broken heart and laugh it back to life.
I will hold myself to task and know that it’s alright.
I will savour the deliciousness of being still – and only me.
I will savour it without permission, without apology.
With all my love.
From, The Girl who Was the Sun.
– For Unsent Letter Volume II by Mashal Peerzada
Featured Image Photo Credit: Garidy Sanders on Unsplash
