Imperfect

I am so tired of everyone assuming that we all have to be so flawless. It may be achievable to the naive, but it's all fake. We're all monstrous wrecks inside.

her favorite pastime is to gaze into
the little mirror she carries around
and count her imperfections,
because she likes to remind herself who she is.

blackheads here and there,
little counters of all the ways
she's unlike the rest of a dying society.

a scabbed spot on her lip which
she keeps biting when she's anxious.

dark circles engraved beneath her skin,
because she's always so tired.

and she absolutely loves to
push her bangs back when she's in
a room of ugly, glamorous people - to let
the world see that she's different from them, with their
pale, flawless skin;
full lips;
big, emotionless eyes;
all masks of hurting, terrified children
and she smiles with her uneven complexion,
because she is the only one left
who is truly beautiful and honestly unique.

Author's Note

Just angsting about society. And how I really dislike those "picture-perfect" preps.

Reviews/constructive criticism are appreciated. C:

Reviews

[Charity]

Good job! I love the idea of everyone is imperfect(which is true) and how everyone expects you to have no mistakes and do everything right. But I really don't like it when people think that though. And I think people stare into the mirror too much...Good job though. Great poem!

[Peter Joseph Swanson]

Very good!