Beautiful is You.

Feel the rage seeping through your veins. Shriek at the top of your voice. Slap someone on their  back so their teeth chatter. Sing like you’re the only person on earth. Stick your tongue out at someone when they deserve it. Lick that chocolate off your fingers, not giving a shit who’s watching. Laugh your head off, loud and raucous. Swear once in a while.

That hot headed anger where you hear the fuzz in your brain and where you feel your blood boil like hot steel kept under the sun all day, the guitar strum that reverberates through your hand when you slap someone hard and the melody that is in the cacophony of your laughter- being wild is a plethora of music.

Oh, the joy of day dreaming, gaping open mouthed at a point in space when your eyes gloss but you hear your mind whirring away in your very own eden of imagination. Oh, the joy of the  unabashed flush when your eyes meet his and you cannot help but smile crookedly.  And oh, the joy of stifling a grin and failing miserably,  a snort escaping you as your friend nudges you to evoke a fresh bout of giggles.

That moment is precious when you wake up in the morning, your curls at their disposal to look like popcorn and your pillow case a little wet with drool, your eyes hating the light one moment and welcoming it the next. That moment is precious when you scream at the top of your lungs because there’s a vile cockroach in the bath. That moment is precious when your nose runs and  you quickly wipe it away with the back of your sleeve.

The most beautiful you are is when you sneeze in the middle of a well composed speech. The most beautiful you are is when you slip and wildly teeter to gain your balance, the most beautiful you are is when you draw in your breath sharply after you’ve bitten off that chilly. The most beautiful you are is when you don a moustache of ice-cream and don’t realize it.

You are precious because you are impulsive and awkward.

You are beautiful because you are you.

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About meenavid

Pensive thinker. Jumping bean. Loud thoughts. Loudmouth. Extreme. Ordinary. Twenty and something but what the heck, still a kid. Make a happy mess everywhere- or not. Indecisive. You see? Sigh.

5 thoughts on “Beautiful is You.

Make a mess

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