to love oneself
to love is exhilarating
it is wonderful and yet it is terrifying
a woman such as myself
so capable of hatred, sadness and grief
but never thinking of myself as capable
of such a raw, honest, vulnerable and powerful emotion as love
for to love, one must have been fortunate enough to have received it
one must be tough enough to be raw
strong enough to be vulnerable
scared enough to be brave
to love is to welcome another with arms wide open
eyes unclouded
hearts disarmed –
prepared for the worst pain to come but faithful that it will not
to love is to know and choose oneself
but allow others to celebrate it too
to love another is difficult
to love oneself is a thousand times harder
and more rewarding yet
open up, oasis
if we look at the sky
rich and inky blue, like the deeply pressed marks on sensitive skin
lungs filled with air and eyes filled with hope
a landscape before us like an ocean of possibility
swallowed up, a glass box
so open and yet closed
if we close our eyes
rich and velvet red, like the blood flowing out of a bitten cheek
tongues stained, lungs shut, backs bent over
filled with despair, a desert surrounds us
mirages call
sun sweeping
eyes streaming
where did the ocean go
if we look at ourselves
stricken and distorted like the pain we’re going through
lungs empty but filling, eyes wet but drying
mirages faded
opening up to oasis
velvet red and inky blue merging like the blood running cold from our lips
they part as we part
wondering
questioning
when did I let myself go
Romy is an artist and writer based out of Toronto. Her work is centred around developing a sense of self as a first generation Canadian, attempting to reconcile the differences between the cultures by which she is surrounded. Her most recent written works explore self-love, living with chronic illness and learning how to exist on her own terms again post-diagnosis.