The Princess Saves Herself in this One (Women Are Some Kind of Magic, #1)

by Amanda Lovelace

sticks & stones never broke my bones, but words made me starve myself until you could see all of them. - skin & bone.

you have been the star of each & every one of my nightmares. - you left but you stayed.

“what are you going to do with your english degree?” “i plan to crack open the skulls of the masses & plant a colorful garden in every brain.” “i am going to lace together a necklace of words for everyone i meet.” “for once in my life i am going to make sure someone finally hears me.” “i don’t know.” - & it’s okay not to know.

i would like to eat even just one meal without feeling ashamed. - healing is ongoing.

i would like to look into a mirror without immediately looking away. - healing is ongoing II.

they say they only want flowers to grow from my mouth, so i will look them dead in the eye as i shove soft petals past my lips, chew with my jaw completely unhinged, & spit them down at their feet. - i will never be your expectations of me.

i am a tigress who has earned her softer-than-velvet stripes. - an ode to my stretch marks.

i am a lioness who is no longer afraid to let the world hear her roar. - an ode to me.

write the story. push your hands into the dirtiest parts of yourself. take the rot & decay & turn it into nourishment & life. water it & sing to it & show it sunlight. grow a beautiful garden from your aching & teach yourself how to thrive from it. write your story. - the sign you’ve been waiting for.

you were sent down from the stars exactly the way you were supposed to be— the way you would love, the way you would lust, & the way you would find your wings— & no one should have been given the power to take that away from you. - you deserve your pulse.

food is not the enemy. - society is.

repeat after me: you owe no one your forgiveness. - except maybe yourself.