Sometimes, my teeth seem slightly rotten with a honey residue considering, weekends I forget to brush,

Or how my hair waves in this condescending way when I clinch my fist together.

While my bipolar disorder leaves me wilted in emotional dismay, I love how my eyes lay crooked

Across my face as if a wine glass was tilted to her lips

When I put on my glasses during morning's trival stages, lay awake fingering at a salty crust attached to my tear duct like barnacles

And ponder if my breath always smell like a ferret in heat.

 

Sometimes, the sun doesn't shine one the prettiest places on my being

A life form of an alien drowning in a bowl of rice and festering blemishes lick my face a scarlet mess

The ivory moon startles my fingers, so they look loony in this curved way

Never broken, never broken.

 

Sometimes, I forget to shower and I wear clothing too big

To hide my oil stained skin so no one will know my gross format

Like a cheesy MySpace layout 

A wasted womb occupant

Perhaps a wasted embryo petty with insecurities 

 

More of my days, my lips are softly pink with a hint of mauve 

From my overgrowing pain of chilled winter mornings

Cleaving my fingers pale from the crisp wind racing passed my days

And my feet look like paws or a monkey's hand

With eggshell blue wires staining my dermal shield 

(Like Christmas lights around a tree, almost pretty in this uncanny way).

 

All of my days, my skin isn't a tan flourish like my kin 

Not a mocha latte from a fancy coffee shop

More like a flask of Valero's cheap  creamer 

Left out of the refrigerator way too long.

 

None of my days, hardly am I full

From the strange strains of freckles consuming my sheathe

Or how my hip make my walk look like I have a pole up my bum

But the clear nakedness from my lope sided body 

I am a photo

A portrait

Of normal humanity.