I'm fashionably late to loving myself

the pursuit of "love"

perhaps my mistake was

that I sized myself too small

to fit into the tiny hearts of people

that I shrank myself too tight

to be held in their palms

played as their wish

but forgot that I needed not

to live smaller than the legend

of the dragon, from whose ashes I rose

the breath that is filled in my lungs

can yield flames, freeze droplets

what could I not do

hadn't I made myself "lovable"

for people whose "love" was

narrower than the alleys

of jam-packed cities

trying to fit myself in places I never belonged

I gave pieces of myself 

and picked up pieces that were never mine

good and bad both

so I do not wish to worry

if I'm lovable, if I'm cool

a piece of puzzle waiting

to be figured out by fools

if I could be the top adored person on your list

it's so much more fulfilling

simply to just exist

unapologetically

daringly to just exist

regardless of the expectations that

swirl around your mind

cloud your vision

take you away from your paradise

and label it as something futile

henceforth I take my power back

and rush to my garden of hopes

where one blooms and one wilts

but forever it blooms

lilacs and rose