I am writing a response to a video by nymisha. Go check out the brilliant video here. (I honestly would like to live in your head for a day, nymisha)
I know I am not pretty. I don't turn heads that are looking for long, dewy maidens whose laughter sparkles like soap bubbles I used to blow when I was young. I can't throw my head and toss my hair and catch the sun in my eyes because my eyes are like burnt charcoal.
No, I am not pretty.
Pretty is such a sharp word. A word that sounds like splinters. Like hard, cold, lifeless glass that pierces your soul.
Pretty. Such a petty word.
No. I will not let me be defined by a word like pretty. I refuse to be known by such a heartless word. I am not a china doll.
So no, I am not just pretty.
I am the sun the moon the stars.
I am a monster.
A hideous one.
I am beautiful.
I am a Phoenix.
I may burn down, but then I will burn you down with me.
But I will rise from my ashes.
So, call me anything you want to. Just not pretty.