Wild at heart... . Birds of tokyo
You've got your motive, you set the scene
So how about another taste
Or would you like to remind me why we're here
As I walk to the water to cleanse off the blood on my hands
The weight of this crime leaves a stain in the sand
I hope new tides come to wash me clean for good
You know that I fought with many and I won for some
We stared at ourselves 'til our breaking point
We wear our bruises like watermarks
The life and the death of the wild at heart
This empty bottle, this busted hand
Highlights mistakes of a broken man
He won't speak up, no he won't come out of his hole
We were led to believe that the language of love was god
So few were forgiven
I'll lead a march to the wall
And we'll pull it down
So we can rebuild it
Edit : me
O. P. : DeviantArt
So this is me, in my natural state - my hair is wild, my skin is makeup free and I haven’t retouched any of the wrinkles on my face. .
I am me. .
I have earned the wrinkles and the spots, and the red flush in my cheeks. I am in my forties and proud of my body and what it does for me. I can run and jump and help others and love.
I am strong.
It is hard in this day and age not to conform to some of the expectations of society - to cling to the physical beauty of our youth. But my strength has come through the years - my successes and failures, dreams lost, dreams achieved, grief and joy.
What do you love about your body? What are your strengths?
“What a rebellious act it is to love yourself naturally in a world of fake appearances.”
— Nikki Rowe