You are only one, but you are not the only one.

Life is powerful. It can be
powerfully destructive:
tearing babes from mothers' chests
ripping through dead rain forests like a dragon
breathing fire
sucking dry
the oceans that feed us,
spreading famine of
tears that make us beating hearts;
spilling blood
on unholy ground
as the dying rivers cry
their songs of weariness--

But we
who rise from the ashes 
over and over again, 
dawning like a phoenix flecked with gold
after choking on the dust, after 
breaking every limb; 
climbing the spines of our own backs 
up again
and again
and again
racing our hearts to beat
faster, live longer,
love deeper.
 
We are the beauty of this world. 
We can 
claim that for ourselves and 
be beautiful and free, 
in spite of the slavery.

Wash yourself. Again and again.

Be beautiful.
Build your life
as if it were a work of art.
You fall, get back up. Be brave.
Tell your truth. Live.
This is what beauty is.
And you are a part of it.