human error iii.
Years passed,
the daisies grew
and the nicknames
changed.
Glitch stayed.
It was my name,
now.
Nobody even
knew my real name
anymore.
When junior high came around
I was so sick and tired
of being myself.
One day I remember
sitting down in front of my mirror.
I stared at it for a while,
and then
I took a deep breath and
plucked every single
daisy, sunflower, tulip,
and rose
off my body
until I was littered
with only green little
polka dot stumps.
Even though the pain
of ripping those stems
from my skin
was almost unbearable,
I still smiled,
because I thought that
all those imperfections
would be
gone
forever.
(I was a fool.)
Morning came,
and every single flower
had crawled it’s way
right back to the top
of my skin.
YOU ARE READING
glitch
PoetryI am a monster. Everybody knows it, but they're too afraid to say it out loud. My body's made of static and dead skin cells, and I don't know if knowing that i'm a failure is what makes me sad or if it's the fact that everyone else knows i'm a failu...
