Me

I am perfectly imperfect.

No longer do I hide in doubt and shame.

But laugh and smile in the sun.

My bloody sweat covers my tracks,

As do the millions of tears I have shed

Shed for a thing I am not.

But I am beautiful.

Beautiful not only to me but to the uncaring world.

For the world could not care.

We think that we need to impress

But everyone is too involved in themselves to give a damn.

So who do we want to impress?

Impress the empress of our desires.

Our diety and god or looks.

It stares at everyday finding the imperfections.

But that is not me.

Not anymore. 

For I am a warrior against the lies of my own goddess.

I am me.

I am beautiful.

I am perfectly imperfect.