The half moon was shining bright yellow like a golden smile on the night sky.
I smiled inwardly, as the moon often does that to me.
Though not as bright as the moon that’s full,
The half moon still lighted the way for me.
I’ve always been in love with the moon
And it often reminds me that some changes can be beautiful.
She swept you away like a tide
Swallowed you whole
You held your breath for her
Because for you,
She was worth it.
She was the most stunning rainbow you’ve ever seen
The loveliest rose in the garden.
But you broke her too
Replaced her with someone new
Kind of like how you replaced me…
I live in a country were pale skin is considered pretty
Which is an irony
Because most people are brown, bronze, dark, or colored
They look at me with envy
And say I’m lucky…
Only because I’m pale, that they think me a beauty.
Almost everyone here wants snow white skin
While I think “morenos” or “morenas” are beautiful
But I don’t try to change my skin color
Unlike most I see around me
If beauty is just skin deep
Then I don’t want to be considered beautiful
I’d rather be seen as pretty because of my dry wit and sarcasm
Because of my intelligence and quirkiness
I’ll shed this pale white skin
And be a different kind of beauty
The way he looks
The way he walks
Chuckles and talks
All the same.
They are all the same too.
Somethings never change
But not me, not anymore.
A flower about to wilt is just as beautiful as the one blossoming.
People don’t acknowledge it, but there is beauty in death too.
To say that I gave up on love would be absurd
Because giving up for me was never a word
But he was the reason
The last straw of the season
Maybe someday it’ll change
Allow me to be me
Do not wish for me to be someone else
Do not hate me for being unchanging
For wanting just to be me
I change when I am ready
But do not force me
Do not reprimand me
Do not cast me out
Allow me to be just the same girl you knew
To cut a hair that’s all the long
A change of view wouldn’t be so wrong
To sing a song from old
Sounds kind of new and gold
A make up and maybe none or just less
Could be grand or a huge mess
Change things up for a change
Too many changes
Too many chances
Too many things going on at the same time
Too many for my head to take
And so I stare at the wall
She needed to change
She could feel it
It was a necessity
So she let it
Her brown hair, was slowly becoming black
Her eyes, more brown than anyone could ever dream of
Deep inside she’s the same
And so her chestnut is no more
Her transformation, complete
She is now known as the girl with jet black hair