I am chaos.
I am imperfect.
A stain of red wine on the carpet.
A wrinkle on a table cloth.
A rose in a field of sunflowers.
A blue streak in a sea of green.
A tiger amongst cats.
A fingerprint on the mirror.
I am imperfect.
Hidden to the eye, yet there.
But if you look closely, You'll notice me.
Notice what I am.
Notice the change I cause.
Average is boring.
I am me.
The real me.
As real as I can get.
Perfectly imperfect.
Imperfectly perfect.
YOU ARE READING
When Your Card Gets Declined At Therapy | Poetry Collection Part 1 ©
Poetry... so they bring up the poems you wrote instead. © All written by me 2022 - 2024 Fay Willows
