To Young Hearts

You are almost beautiful. That kills you; the almost. It slides down the mirror late at night and launches itself onto your skin. Festers there like an unseen infection that heats you up and leaves you less than you were before. It’s a curse; the almost. Pretty but not beautiful. Lovely but not stunning. Attractive but not breathtaking. Breathtaking is the summit you covet. The climb is beyond you. You flounder, betrayed by your birth on the foothills of mediocrity.

You continue to struggle, despite the ridiculousness of it. This is all you’ve ever been encouraged to do. A pluck here, a tweak there, becomes a lift and a slice. And before you know it you are getting parts of yourself liquefied and sucked out of you. They ooze down a hose into a bucket on the floor and someone throws them out with the slops from the cafeteria. When you leave the hospital with your newly sutured equatorial line, you walk past giant waste bins without realising they contain your DNA. You don’t look back but you’re afraid to look forward because suddenly you’ve forgotten who you are.



Filed under Art, Beauty, Fiction, Flash fiction, Health, Love, Sex, Spiritual, Weight Loss, Women/Feminist, Writing

18 responses to “To Young Hearts

  1. sandybarker

    Ah, that first paragraph: stop reading my mind…


  2. That is very powerful and active writing. Your skill at evincing emotion is turned to good cause. Very effective especially as the second paragraph unfolds without mercy. Great writing.


  3. this is sou are such a visceral piece, simonne you
    write, and i’m sure feel with precision and passion,
    i’m in total awe.


  4. Sharp. Provocative. True.


  5. Sandy, you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met – if you have this shared curse of women, please throw it off if you can!
    Thank you Paul, great commenting as always, love having you around 🙂
    Jade, it is a topic I’m pretty passionate about, yes. Once ‘Beat’ is finished I’ll be getting back to the ‘Does My Vagina Look Fat in This?’ book with relish.
    Thank you Annie; a great compliment coming from you.


  6. Melana

    Raw truth without a dressing for the pain…

    Relentless, powerful delivery. Great writing, Simonne!


  7. poseidonsmuse

    Hi Simonne. Our culture certainly has lost appreciation for the “wild” or “natural” state that is “woman”, yes? As I was reading this piece, I imagined myself taking this woman by the hand, away from her sterilised setting, carting her to the top of a mountain and allowing her to resonate with the Truth of her Soul — such that her heart might sing and she might feel the awe of her surroundings, and thus the beauty and Light emanating from inside of her. That is how a woman (or a man for that matter) may go from “mediocre” to the pinnacle of “stunning”.

    Thank you for your wisdom Goddess! Oh, and Lakshmi sends her love to you today (she flipped out of my deck as I thought of you with loving intention). Your writing career has a bright future my Dear. Keep it up!


  8. Grace

    I would venture a guess that the sentiment in this particular piece would get a “oh-my-god-that’s-me” from millions of women around the world. Especially that first paragraph (since some of us are too chicken to go under the knife or sucker).

    Awesome work as always, Simonne….


  9. True. Sad. Present day narcissistic excess.
    People are so damn concerned with the “outside” never taking into account what’s within.
    It slides down the mirror late at night and launches itself onto your skin.
    I really liked that.
    Thanks so much for your recent visits.
    I’ve yet to even comment on them but wanted to stop by and say hi.
    Hoping you’re well . . .


  10. Doktor Holocaust

    hearts nothin’. it’s insecurity that makes them go for the tubes and sutures. It’s the heart that cries out to be valued and loved for what it already is, and it’s the forked tongue of a society that sees no profit in listening to the heart that whispers those insecurities in people’s ears.

    the trick, of course, is to not listen to those whispered evils, to tune it out and hear the distant yet very fierce roar of the heart within. Or, barring that, to grab hold of that forked tongue and PULL like there’s no tomorrow.


  11. Pingback: Doktor Holocaust: Evil Mutant. « Holocaust Labs

  12. hierophant4582

    Impressive. That first paragraph is excellent.


  13. Melana, thanks. You made a similar comment to Paul, and it’s funny but I didn’t see (intend) it that way (without dressing the pain) when I wrote it.
    Muse, yes! Please lead them all up there like the wise woman you are and show them the beauty of their souls. And thanks for sending Lakshmi’s love my way 🙂
    Sadly Grace I think you’re right for this is what is taught to us from a very early age.
    Michael, visits to you are a pleasure. It is sad about how focused we are on the outside, but as I said to Grace, women are taught to be inherently unhappy from an extremely young age, so suddenly seeing the light and deciding to travel within is very difficult, espeically for young women.
    Dok, what a rockin’ comment! I’m all for pulling on those forked tongues and then turning up the volume on the heart’s fierce roar.
    Welcome Hierophant, and thanks for the compliment.


  14. ‘…you’ve forgotten who you are.’

    That’s ‘cos you just left half of yourself in the bucket 🙂

    I’m with you on this one. The ‘almost’ people are real, and that’s far more beautiful.


  15. There is no perfection in the physical form only that it is perfect the way it is and not how society depicts perfect to be. Great post.


  16. romi41

    This was completely stirring…it was this line “You flounder, betrayed by your birth on the foothills of mediocrity”…that really cut in for me….well done.


  17. Exactly Tony, exactly!
    I agree Mark, what is perfection anyway?
    Thanks Romi, I think we all feel like we’re floundering around sometimes, wishing we had more, or could be more, or do more, when really we just need to sit back and take a deep affirming breath…


  18. Pingback: a fledgling idea « into the quiet

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