Dear Disaster, Disappointment and Disease,
I wear you well. You've tried to destroy me.
No.
You can't take away my eyes that see what it looks like; clouds clinging to the sky while hugging the earth-like me. You don't rob me of feeling my heart flutter in awe at the mountains when I look down on them through white light of morning from an airplane seat. I'm above you.
I see and I feel what can't be torn or ripped away or taken against my will. I soar above the highest peaks... Propelled here by you, but floating by my own grace.
I wear you well as I keep ascending, while I watch from my vantage point tens of thousands of miles above you. You're only experience; nothing less, nothing more.
I am so much more than what I wear.
I can take you off... Exchange you for a different size, shape, color, style. Thank you and no thank you. I can take you with me or leave you. You're nothing without me. But everything with me.
I hold up my head, stick out my chest, and flaunt you.
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