I am young, I am Naïve, and I am gullible.

I am old, I am jaded, and I am a realist.

My traits contradict each other at every turn I take.

My hair is ratty, with multiple dead ends.

My hair is a faded purple, my roots have come in a dusty brown.

My eyes are like sunflowers against the bright green grass,

But as dull as a black abyss.

My skin is as creamy as whipped cream, but my body is as lumpy as sour dough.

My cheek bones could cut wood.

I am short, I don’t look like much.

But I am fierce; my ferocity makes up for the lost height.

My smile is not beautiful, my teeth are not white.

I have gaps between my teeth, they are tinged slightly yellow.

I wear oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants.

All these things I’ve named about me,

They may seem like flaws,

But these are the things I enjoy about myself.

I am not a fragile flower; I am not a blonde princess.

I am misguided, I am young, and I am full of life.

I am a tiger in the wild plains that you’ve only seen pictures of.