The sun folds a page

To thumb a new day

That I can run through the air

Without a care in my stare

And notice in the mirror

that I am me

Myself

I

A man who questions why

the world focuses on ones natural appearance

Causing an interference

In how we view a person as a whole

Versus the cover of an unopened book.

Society paints a mental image

of the face and body that we should achieve

and the thoughts that we should conceive

Rather than focus on the

traits and features that we have already received

and embellish them further into something

grand.

No one should have to stand amongst the people

As a tourist’s attraction

Or as a mere fraction

Of the men and women who are considered

“Normal” in this world.

Everyone should look at themselves

As a human and not a wad of clay

That forms and twists

to please the people it’s surrounded by

Day after day.

Month after month

Year after constant year I have recycled

this notion in my brain

And because I don’t care what people want me to be

Because I don’t fit in a plastic mold

Because I embrace the criticism I receive and witness

Into my passions of being both a writer and an artist

I am flawless.