I’m not perfect
Just perfectly flawed,
With broken edges
That are curved & broad.
I’ve been ripped apart
Only to be stitched,
Sewn with resilience
And a little added bitch.
I’m a cocktail of disaster
A messed up recipe,
With a teaspoon of spice
And a dash of profanity.
I’m a hurricane
So beautiful to view,
Just not a storm
To get sucked into.
With a life forged
Full of transformation
I became perfect
A perfect imperfection
K
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It’s these imperfections in our selves, that we find drives to improve our own lives for the better, to keep on, reaching, for that, perception of what our perfect selves can be.
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