I love myself before I loved myself

It’s ok to love the younger you
who used words as a weapon
to hurt people that matter–
that you with the wrong clothes and uneven bangs
who harbored anger in her heart–
the one who’s spine curved like a question mark
as she tried in vain to take up less space
in those photographs missing from your mother’s album.
You are wonderfully made
and perpetually unfinished.
Love was the river that swept her to you.
Nourished with forgiveness
you’ll bloom.

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