Lovable, a foreign concept until now.
I dare you to count the limitless ways
I died and was born again.
I threw tantrums.
I gnawed and scratched my way out of myself to grow,
to adapt to my potential.
Nostalgia calls me back to a time
when I was still memorizing my skin.
I visit her once in a while to remind her,
‘You will take on more of the world
than you ever dreamed you could.
You will adore who you become, craters and all.
It is because of those bumps and bruises
that your moonlight will be blinding.’