May 22, 2019 by thewashingteenian
By Maysa Haj-Mabrouk, Staff Writer.
My life is nothing short of frustrating
Like the one hair that refuses to be caught by your tweezers
Or the paperback book cover that curls up towards the ceiling
Or the pencil that just won’t stay sharpened.
And when these frustrations hold me tightly and
Spoon-feed me their nightmares─
Perhaps “self-love is the instrument of our preservation”
Perhaps if I only tried harder I would be able to fill the void
That seizes my heart and drags it into itself;
Maybe self-love is the key to the locket I’ve been trying to pry open
With my bare hands and nails.
But until I learn, I will never see the sun without it peaking through layers of clouds;
Only once I learn the power of good faith and love
I shall become a new woman.
I shall become new again.
I shall be free.