My flaws make me flawless. The slight wrinke outside of my eyes. The scars that are on my face. The overweight girl who can never fit in. The reason why I am who I am. I find strength in others, in their flaws in their mannerisms. Their ticks and their defeats. I am apart of them. Mind body and soul. I laugh when others try and break me. They try to snap my neck in half. Spitted words cut the back of my neck. I press on. My weakness is my strength. My end is my beginning. I feel for love even though it is not around me. An artist who photograph souls not the color of their skins. The color of their clothes. The color of their suits. "Sit down and tell me your story, I could care less about your rank." I wonder about your character and how you percieve others. My mind goes in a million different directions. It holds when it gets hit with hate. I go stiff and stare. I walk away. This is what it is to be flawless, to be me, to be a person and to never right these words the same again.