Meet young writer Laiba Zahid of Whispered Words
Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I have already heard the word rubbed raw across the flesh of so many girls before me. Thrown at them like rocks that beat the skin of those we do not understand. “You are beautiful” we yell with such contempt. “God Dammit! Why don’t you just believe me, you’re beautiful” . It is not a compliment. It is a victory march of your own self-sacrifice. “You are beautiful” we say through gritted teeth. “You are beautiful” we spit out through tears, looking at a reflection of hate. “You are beautiful” we say holding the body that has never felt the arms of another. “You are beautiful”.
” DON’T tell me I’m beautiful”. A word like that floats on the surface, give me something with depth. Tell me I’m intelligent. Tell me I’m courageous. Tell me that when I laugh the whole world smile…
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