If I could speak every language,
I would be flawless.
If I had enough money to distribute to to developing countries,
those families would starve less.
I would be flawless.
an empowering quality that does not exist.
Except through the eyes of my fucking boyfriend.
I’m one point below a 10.
in comparison to what?
Another fucking 10.
A graded chart to limit our idea of beauty.
But in the past history,
beauty was carved out from an individual identity.
Hepburn and Monroe-
were so unique though!
And what in your eyes baby,
would make me flawless?
If I had a smaller nose, and perfect features?
If I had bigger boobs, and sex appeal?
even if I wasn’t real?
would I be flawless then?
But what would I gain..?
Attention from men??
No thank you!
I’m glad I’m not flawless,
even if you love me less,
cuz honestly, I like the way I am,
and I’m fine with the size of my ass,
so dance instructors can back off telling me to eat less,
So please, God, THANK YOU,
for not making me flawless,
so I am not heartless.
In the end, I just hope to be fearless.
For being unloved in this world of a hot mess.
And thank you very much,
but my face is clutch.
My eyes will never wink
to an evil salute
and never wince a false blink
cuz my lips are a puckered with truth
nor am i able to dilate a lie,
wise dark eyebrows arched high.
and a poised confident narrow chin
held high from good posture
and a deep appreciation
from every mother in nature
And if I could make a deal with someone
to change some things
I wouldn’t change a damn thing.
even if it wasn’t sketch.
I would never make a deal to trade my flaws to be flawless,
because then I wouldn’t be Hikari
and my life would not be this adventurous safari.
If I was ‘flawless’,
people would like me for the wrong reasons.
It would be confusing who to stick to through the seasons.
I’m in the dancers’ haven, the dance studio,
6 plus hours a day!
not to be perfect,
but to be better then yesterday.
If I was perfect,
there would be nothing to shake me out of bed everyday.
Brings a smile to my face
when I see progress
and makes me excited.
My flaws as a dancer,
make me work harder.
When I look at choreography,
I have to think swiftly,
stay fast on ma feet.
And when I’m feeling badass,
my turns are on fleet.
but no matter what,
I can always count on my leaps.
That’s 12 years of training.
Love, passion, and creating.
I didn’t even get started on my selfie’s!
Maxim girls are air-brushed,
used with very expensive cameras.
But with me, you get what you see.
and every flaw is lit.
And my scars tell a story
that gave me character,
when a wild dog rearranged my nose,
he did not bite me till I was bitter.
Because life is too beautiful.
so lets just cover these flaws with some glitter
and keep it moving cuz i got rehearsal.