I Know
I am not what I am meant to be
I’m aware
Yes, I know- A girl’s nails are meant
To be colorful and sleek
Not bitten down by anxiety and picked half to death
Yes, I know- My art isn’t realistic
I never claimed otherwise
Yes, I know- My voice is akin to that
Of a dying seagull
I know you don’t like it when I sing
I know my glasses are perpetually smudged
And my hair is a beast I’ve long given up fighting
I know acne comes from touching my face too much
I know I touch my face too much
I know my skin is a tad too dark
To blend in at school
I know that I am a Mexican unable to speak spanish
I know hair on a woman is unappealing
I’m not trying to be Frida Kahlo
I don’t like it either
I know my calves melt into my ankles
I know my eyes are a generic shade of brown
I know that I am short
I am well aware I need a chair to reach the mugs
I know that I procrastinate
I know that I am lazy
I know that I waste time
I know that I should be getting straight A’s
I know makeup would help my complexion
I am made aware every morning I don’t put it on
I know my flaws already
I’ve lived in the same house with them for seventeen years
We’re well acquainted
I have examined every pimple
I have scowled at every roll
I have fought with the storm clouds
That threaten to drown my mind
I don’t need you to tell me all the ways
That I am not what I should be
I already know the ways
By heart
And to you, I say this:
I
Am a work in progress.
And I know
That the best things in life
Are those that make their flaws
Into something beautiful
For me
For now
I know
That a poem is a good enough place to start.