i am broken in places where no one can see
but me.
and sometimes, even i forget they are there,
but,
it always comes back in a rush
when i look
and all i see
is a twisted parody of what i could have been.
i know
that i am not as broken as many others are.
that i should be grateful for my not-so-obvious flaws.
but still
i want to be perfect
so
so
bad
it hurts.
it hurts more than in the places where i am broken
because it is not the places in where i am broken that hurt
it is the places where i am not that mock me
and even though people don’t mean to draw attention to my scars
everytime they do
i am so unsettled
i want to slip out of my skin and hand it to some mythical mender
and tell them
“Please, fix it”
“fix me.”
because i
want to be perfect
so
so
bad.
i want to run my hands over all the broken places
and wake up
up
up
up from this nightmare of where i am not perfect and not worthy and not fit to be loved
i want to wake up
and not want to be perfect so, so, bad
because wanting to be perfect hurts me to
and i just want to be perfect.
i just want to be perfect
so
so
bad
please
fix me.