Colors and stones.

My nails are painted blue and the polish is chipping. Hopelessly and recklessly chipping. I always leave nail polish on too long, let the colors die a pathetic death. I don’t know other girls who do this as much. I don’t know why I’m like this. Sometimes I think I should care more about why I don’t care.

Other times I think that while this is a valid sentiment, I shouldn’t apply it to nail polish so much.

Now, my hair is bright auburn. Box dye. My natural color is medium brown. I love how fierce my auburn hair is in the light. However, it fades easily. I have to keep dyeing it. It’s work. But it shines. It is worth it to keep shining differently.

There is a color I would never change. My eyes are hazel and splattered with brown freckles, just like my father’s, a trail of tiny stones placed around each landscape. It’s a map.

Frivolous imperfections aside, I know I am whole. Changing, dreaming - and healing. But whole.

The next time I meet myself in a mirror, I will count the stones.