Beautiful

I keep looking for it
and maybe it's not a visual thing
maybe beauty is different everytime you need to experience it
for instance when my children were born
the beauty of hearing them cry out before seeing them
was my beauty
seeing their precious faces
or are their faces
my constant reminder
of where the sound of beauty sprang
is hearing my mom say she's proud of me my beauty
or knowing it
is protecting yourself to the point where no one can reach you
on any level because you've been hurt
self-preservation such a part of you that you don't recognize it
knowing in your heart that if you wanted to be reached
if you allowed anyone to enter protected areas
it would be beautiful
or does beauty begin when you allow those walls to be picked apart
knowing at anytime the rug could be snatched from under you
while bricks in you facade fall away
knowing you could be devastated
hoping you won't be crushed by the debris of falling walls
releasing the fear you've held
hoping it can turn to trust
then maybe it could turn into that very thing
that protects you better than walls ever could
would that be beautiful
I've been climbing over the walls I've built
to protect myself
apparently from myself
that I never took the time to look down
now I've got that fluttering feeling
as I teeter on the edge
of what could be beautiful
and it scares the fuck out of me