I myself am made of flaws woven together with good intentions,

Good intentions of them not being flaws at all really, just marking of what could've been,

what i could've looked like, what i could've shaped up to be, what could've made me happy to be with than to be without, 

But why not imbrace it! I'm a mess of flaws,

a gorgeous choas, that shows off every imperfection i have,

a flawless mess..

My frezzy hair in the morning, oily skin in the afternoon ,and uncontrollably paranoid mind at night makes me who i am,

love me for every perfection and flaw that make my being,

The being that dazzles the minds of strangers passing by,

that flants the scars of depression carelessly into the universe of her new dreams,

that drowns in the stars and fall into the mirror that once brought her shame,

my flaws are good intentions,

woven together on purpose,

im a flawless mess brough to life again.





Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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