There's something unspeakably beautiful about a girl in a big shirt, and short and a messy bun. Her braids fall down her cheeks, looking raggedy but In a way brings out an unearthly beauty. You could see her fresh skin, as smooth as the day her presence graced this world, and her legs were as firm as the words she spoke. Each step she took, each move she made was like a proclamation, announcing her presence but she was in nothing fancy, no curly end, no diamonds that sparkle at different angles, no glass slipper. She was just her, just in her natural state; a big worn out shirt and an equally worn out short, a messy hair and sweat dripping down her face. She stands in the mirror as she stare and stare, because she has never been more beautiful as she appears in the mirror she gaze upon.
There's something beautiful about that, I swear, I really do, because who will find her pretty, in her messy self taught braids with pieces curling out, her thrifted gigantic shirt, with her glasses pushed up her hair, while is brushing her teeth, if not her.
It's Still Abeegail ✨ 💗
