This, this is about my own some-day daughter. When you approach me, already stung-stayed with insecurity, begging. "Mom, will I be pretty? Will I be pretty?", I will wipe that question from your mouth like cheap lipstick and answer;
No! The word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be, and no child of mine will be contained in five letters. You will be pretty intelligent, pretty creative, pretty amazing. But you will never be 'merely' pretty.
Remember Sarah Kay when she delivered "B" and "Hiroshima"? "Pretty" by Katie Makkai verily on the same par as her, giving me goosebumps and chilled my nape every single fucking time I watched this -yeah, can't simply get this one out of my head. Indeed, this life really is a self-mutilating circus where we believe we are worthy and wanted only when we own a marketable facade.
Fuck, I am enamored with spoken word poetry. Kick me ass invariably!
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