Sunday, February 13, 2022

LITERARY: “Philautia” by Lorraine D. Villete


Even with a past so dark and so disturbing, 

There was still someone beneath those ruins. 

Though many knew how impulsive their actions could be; 

There was still the gentleness of all that was gentle within that.  

 

Perfect human beings were made up of flaws— 

That was how it was in words. 

But you, you had many flaws that were unable to be hidden from this world.  

 

It had disrupted people—made them treat you at your lowest. 

It was unloved; no person in their right mind would want to see you.  

 

You weren't the piece the world wanted;  

But you were someone that was needed for greater things.  

 

Despite all of the chaotic things you have gone through— 

You were still that girl who was capable of all things;  

Capable of being loved and giving love.  

 

Through these lines, I wrote a confession— 

One you may never come to accept; 

Yes, you were imperfect, 

But regardless of that, it was not the reason why I had been captivated.  

 

I needed not a mirror to define your features;  

Nor a gossip from one person to another— 

They would never know who you truly were through treacherous lies, 

There was no need for the goal of being "perfect."  

 

The very bit of your existence in my life was enough;  

To be enamored and explore every bit of you— 

 

No walls to block, no lies to hide. 

Just bask in the vulnerability of you.  

The 'you' that I would forever love.



Painting: Summer by Frank Weston Benson (1862-1951)


Published by: Jan Yeasha Mendez

Date published: February 13, 2022 

Time published: 6:13 PM

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