I am young, I am Naïve, and I am gullible.
I am old, I am jaded, and I am a realist.
My traits contradict each other at every turn I take.
My hair is ratty, with multiple dead ends.
My hair is a faded purple, my roots have come in a dusty brown.
My eyes are like sunflowers against the bright green grass,
But as dull as a black abyss.
My skin is as creamy as whipped cream, but my body is as lumpy as sour dough.
My cheek bones could cut wood.
I am short, I don’t look like much.
But I am fierce; my ferocity makes up for the lost height.
My smile is not beautiful, my teeth are not white.
I have gaps between my teeth, they are tinged slightly yellow.
I wear oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants.
All these things I’ve named about me,
They may seem like flaws,
But these are the things I enjoy about myself.
I am not a fragile flower; I am not a blonde princess.
I am misguided, I am young, and I am full of life.
I am a tiger in the wild plains that you’ve only seen pictures of.