Cause I'm Flawless

I am made of glass.

As fragile as a leaf,

as sensitive as a woman's bosam.

If I was to be pushed down.

I'd break at last.

My skin turns red

and burns like hot coals.

I am as bashful as they come.

Not much of a people person at all,

If I could I'd never leave my bed.

Nervous habits eat me up

like biting nails

and shaking legs

and pulling at my hair.

Into people I clumsily bump.

These all could be considered flaws,

but I just take in my jumbled mind

and homey looks,

and I say to myself I perfect,

None of my traits are a loss.