It's two o'clock in the morning and I hear the silence from outside my window

It is barely a window at all

It's cracked and is streaked with dried mud and other unsavory things

It does nothing to protect from the horrors outside of it

But the faux sense of security is the only thing keeping me sane

 

I can see the quick, fleeting shadows of beings that are less than human

Blank stares, perfect hair, clean shirts and pressed pants

They smile, wide and gaping

In a time long past these people would bring you coffee at the office or talk about the news

But that was a long time ago

 

Now they walk, back straight and aimlessly but not quite so

They are looking for people, no, me

Or others like me but are there others?

No, these monsters...these prefect, frightening monsters have taken them all away

 

Kicking, screaming, scratching, crying

One by one, each was dragged away

Pieces of them ripped away, soul slowly drawn out until they too were smiling

Wide and gaping, with prefect hair and clean clothes

They are fixed

 

They fixed everyone

Wiped away their scarred and tattooed skin

Washed out the colorful hair

Removed the rings and piercings

Fixed their limps and perfect imperfections 

 

I am afraid, terrified

But I will not become one of them

They will not fix me

I do not need fixing

 

From behind the dirty, cracked window I can see them gathering  

Wide gaping smiles, prefect hair, and clean clothes

They press closer to the glass and through the cracks they see me

My imperfect hair, my imperfect body, my imperfect smile, and my imperfect clothes

 

I smile my imperfect smile, small and showing my crooked, slightly yellowed teeth

And raise a unkempt brushy eyebrow, a silent challenge

They will not fix me

For I am perfect