You're Beautiful

“You’re beautiful.” She said.

You’re strong, but there is no beauty encased in that red satin top and those fish net stockings. You’re hard.  But you are not beautiful I thought.

There is so much beauty in this world but we gnarl at it until all we see is ugliness.

A short denim mini skirt rides high on the thrill of a night out, away from the kids, away from him.  A plunging neckline gawps flirtatiously at the prospect of a night of freedom. 

What a tangled web she weaves. 

Happiness is too easy and too hard to settle on, always looking for something wrong.  Make life hard, chip away at the pleasantries bit by bit until every day is insolent, it is easier to live with the ugliness, it gives us the right to complain.

There is so much beauty in the world.  The children.  They see so little but they see everything that is beautiful because they let it be. 

She runs up the stairs.  Her skirt leaves little left unsaid.  She wants to be in there, surrounded, she is food for their ugliness and they are hers.  She thrives.  Her children sleep.  He does not. 

She sees my beauty because I have yet to find something beautiful to make ugly.  Like the children, I see the world through innocent eyes.  When I find happiness you will see my ugliness, we change this world because we can’t bear the burden of happiness. 

"Don’t make a mess we tell our children" as we make the biggest mess we can. "Pick your clothes up off your floor" we tell our children as we throw ours down on someone else’s. "Don’t tell lies we tell our children" as we promise that this will be our last time. 

Be happy with what you’ve got we tell our children.  Be happy with what you’ve got.