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Being impeccable is over-rated, unattainable, impossible, and even outdated. I prefer my goofy smile, and my spontaneous, overbearingly hectic lifestyle, over that of a life monotonous with perfection.
To be brought and to age in a world of masks To be raised and trained to forge my own To be afraid to be without it At the end of the day I'm still me
I was broken. Shattered.
I am a paradox with skin and bones. The Sleeping Repunzel you pass in the hall way.
I have feet that graze the ground with each step I take. Legs so powerful that carry my weight and knees that allow them to bend. I have a stomach that supports the innermost parts of me
The people that reside here in this mess Would have you believe
I am flawlessly flawed and that’s why I’m awed to be in this world created by God. Every hair on my head, even the ones still messy from bed, Are exactly where he meant them to be.
The images flashing across TV screens,