Cardboard cut outs

so before you read, this is actually a rewrite, or like a redo of the cardboard cutout girl poem I did forever ago! So that’s cool. Anyway thx. 

 

There is a cardboard cut out little girl.

She is not the normal perfect shape.

She’s a little round a little wide with a little too much on the sides

But she is beautiful.

She is a loud laugh across the room that you can’t take your eyes off of because she is so genuine and bright and right

She is a dance in the rain. She is the feeling of water kissing your skin and the knowledge that all the mistakes are washed away.

She may not be perfect. But she is beautiful.

And she doesn’t know it.

Because the cardboard society believes in conformity.

They believe that anything other than the stick thin robot smiles are wrong.

So our lovely beautiful cardboard cut out girl doesn’t fit through their doors.

Because they are shaped and cut into a certain formed and for the life of her she can’t make herself fit.

So she cuts. She cuts and cuts.

Cuts away the good cuts away the things that make her lovely.

She cuts and cuts and cuts until there is nothing left but the stick thin robot.

There is nothing left but a computer generated smile and a robot animated voice.

“How are you”

“I’m good”

How’s life

“Fine”

Lies lies lies lies lies lies lies lies lies lies lies lies

Because this cardboard cut out little girl is not fine she is the opposite fine she is a fish trapped in a bowl when it really belongs out in the sea.

She was circling the drain, an intertwining web of angry words telling her over and over again. That no matter what she did she would never amount to the expectations they had for her.

She became plastic, fake a lie.

She became a robot.

She became a soul occupying a body that forgot how to feel.

But she fit.

It didn’t matter that her heart was hurting it didn’t matter that she felt alone it didn’t matter that nothing would ever be ok again

Because she fit through those doors.

She stopped dancing through life.

She became a broken record stuck on repeat, she became a keyboard with keys missing she became broken.

Because the thing about conformity, is that you always lose pieces of yourself to do it.

Your heart is broken into little intricate fragments that are left in piles on the floor and some are swept up and the rest are left for you to pick up on your own.

This cardboard cut out paper girl kept cutting. Because it never ends.

She had to check herself.

She caught herself laughing too loud. Cut. Dancing too wild. Cut. Being kind cut. Making connections. Cut. Being vulnerable. Cut.

This cardboard cut out girl didn’t know that beauty isn’t pain.

Beauty doesn’t mean cutting and trimming and lying and repeating a voice automated tone that is recorded at the beep.

Beauty is more than that.

Beauty is when you first wake up in the morning and your eyes and voice are full of sleep.

Beauty is no makeup pj parties with pizza.

Beauty is the ability to cry.

Beauty is knowing that no matter what size or shape you are the doors are meant to take you somewhere not lock you out.

Beauty is growing.

Beauty is you.

So don’t let yourself become like the cardboard girl. Don’t trim your sides. Don’t shrink yourself to fit into someone else’s box.

Because you are beautiful.

You are made up of billions and trillions of atoms, the same material that fills the stars in the sky

You are clouds and joy and twinkling Christmas lights that dance across your eyes

You are made up of reds and blues and oranges, the same colors that make a sunset you are so beautiful.

So darling, the next time you think that you are wrong or not good enough to fit through the society’s doors I want you to freeze

And get a better mirror.

I want you to open the dirty window and go outside and sit in the sun

I want you to go find the other cardboard people who refuse to conform to the society’s shapes I want you to build a better door not a better you.

Because you are better.

You are better than robot hellos and recorded messages you are better than the other cardboard people that laugh and point you are better than your size better than the doors better than the rules better than you could possible imagine.

Because you are you.

And that’s all you ever needed to be.

 

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