What if I can’t lose weight?
What if my clothes aren’t cool?
What if my hair isn’t right?
What if I’m considered a fool?
What if I didn’t give a shit about what anybody thinks and chased after what was really important to me?
Oh, to be 18, again
Or 14, in junior high
To live out loud, out from under this cloud
Staring at bright, blue sky
I would be fierce, artistic
Outspoken, yet simplistic
Lovely and fantastic
Oh. Wait. I don’t have to be 18. Or 14. I am all those things. Now.
What if I loved myself wherever I am. However I am. Now? Huh.