Not loving oneself is like a hand grasping out at those glistening treasures, but not believing there is a right to reach for such delights. It is a gesture, a hesitation that screams I don't deserve this. And so, all those 'things' remain in some sad, stateless place, gathering dust and shit. Hidden from view.
Until of course I decide I am worthy, and realise that those treasures are mine to do with them, whatever I will.
I hope to dwell here awhile.
|Illustration by Lisa Falzon|