Because Beauty Is By Chiphadzubva Mwale

Salutations bee-ple!

I’m all for empowering young artists- in whatever field they choose to endevour in. So I’ll often be sharing with you the talents of all these wonderful souls! This week I’m delighted to introduce you to the thunderously inspiring and equally beautiful Miss Chiphadzubva Mwale- who was kind enough to share her poetry with us! Honestly- it’s soul shakingly beautiful!

Enjoy!

Love and light!

-B

Because Beauty Is

Everybody has their own ideas of what beauty should be.

So they make you chase the box to think in and color inside the lines,

Because everything must have a border, and we should know this from that,

Even though we’re meant to be ‘color blind’.

And apples can’t look like pears, so don’t use black because we need plenty of color,

But cut down on the reds and yellows, greens and blues because then it’s loud.

Only color inside the lines because apparently beauty has a way of looking,

And it looks like this…

Neat.

It’s ironed socks, in polished shoes and ribbons sitting pretty on the waist.

Rarely barefeet in the dirt, dusty t-shirts and silver in your hair from running through the caves of wonder.

Leave the light alone.

Wash the scented earth and oils from your palms, scrub the smeared sweat and paint from your cheekbones and brows.

Be here in the real world, where people get real jobs, and do real people things.

Like get married. And he dare not take you home to momma with gold hoops in your nostrils and purple braids living on your scalp.

You must look how they want, not how you feel because feelings are a lie,

And that makes them uncomfortable.

Walk within the lines too because a side step means you’re dancing, means you’re happy,

And happiness is another lie, that also makes them uncomfortable.

Be yourself, just don’t be you the way you must be, but how they show you.

Because you are beautiful and it frightens them.

You grow black moons that shine bronze in the bushes in your backyard.

There is wonder in your night terrors, and terrors in the best of your dreams.

And this frightens them because you’re alive, and you know that life is within you.

Quaking in your bones, forcing it’s way through your ribcage disguised as a heartbeat.

You are magic.

There are stars in your eyes, galaxies sheilded by the passion that you call your eyelashes,

Always batting to make things clearer so you know.

They are afraid because you know.

Because you are reckless and unapolgetic.

Because you dream, and you dance and there is no box to think outside of.

Just lines. Only lines

-Chiphadzubva Mwale

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