It’s not what you wear.
It’s not how you wear it.
It’s not what you say or do.
It’s something inside ~ an inner jewel that sparkles no matter how dark it gets.
Oh how I wish I understood these simple little things, instead of believing the far-fetched lies we tell ourselves, the yarns we spin endlessly, winding back on each other until the knots are impossible to untie. A different sort of unraveling happens then…
I wish I knew then that the finery you hang from your neck, the bracelet you slip onto your wrist, the rings on your fingers, and all the sartorial adornments you use to cover your gorgeously worn body have nothing to do with the power you have to sparkle. I also wish I knew then that it’s a power we all have. That would have made it easier to be kind.
Best believe I’m still bejeweledWhen I walk in the roomI can still make the whole place shimmer…
Alas, such lessons are slow to be learned – but one must remember that the most rewarding wisdom comes from that which takes years to decipher. Instant gratification rarely yields lasting satisfaction. I had my eye on grander things, even if the fake gems and false jewels did their best to skew perception. Even if they were pretty enough to wear, even if they were pretty enough to fool the world.
Familiarity breeds contemptDon’t put me in the basementWhen I want the penthouse of your heartDiamonds in my eyesI polish up real, I polish up real nice
A jacket of pink velvet invites a brush with greatness.
A cage of gold encases a treasure trove of gems.
A coat of operatic stature spills its brilliance onto the floor.
Underneath it all the fragile beating of a heart, fluttering like a hummingbird and spending all the energy of a century in a single night, burns impossibly bright, summoning everything for this one evening.
We wage the battles, and we wage the wars, and it doesn’t matter if your armor is velvet and jewels – the wounds still wound, the hurt still hurts. But it’s nothing a flippant laugh won’t cure in an instant ~ the disarmament of a lifetime when you put your own torn cuff next to some real heartache and loss… and then you think, ‘Comparison is the thief of joy.‘
Sapphire tears on my faceSadness became my whole skyBut some guy said my aura’s moonstoneJust ’cause he was highAnd we’re dancin’ all nightAnd you can try to change my mindBut you might have to wait in lineWhat’s a girl gonna do?A diamond’s gotta shine
Best believe I’m still bejeweledWhen I walk in the roomI can still make the whole place shimmer (shimmer)
When the years have worn away the fuzzy film of superficial comforts, and all that remains is the sharply-faceted crystalline core of steely self-belief, there is, buried under all the dolled-up, dressed-up, fucked-up trappings, a different sort of shine, a more formidable sort of sparkle. It cuts across all insecurity and doubt, it lays flat all whispers of worry, and it poisons the very root of all unnecessary anguish. It is one of the secret gifts of age – the hidden golden underside of getting older.
Familiarity breeds contemptDon’t put me in the basementWhen I want the penthouse of your heartDiamonds in my eyesI polish up real (nice), I polish up real nice
This brave new world was here all along – how strange to think that so much of it has been mere perception, and to realize how easily it all falls so beautifully apart when the artifice is revealed. That makes the frivolity and fabulousness all the more fun. There is glory too in the fleeting and temporal – when one night is forever and never at once.
And we’re dancin’ all nightAnd you can try to change my mindBut you might have to wait in lineWhat’s a girl gonna do? What’s a girl gonna do? I polish up niceBest believe I’m still bejeweledWhen I walk in the roomI can still make the whole place shimmer.
