Miss not so perfect

She’s a leader

She’s perfect, an inspiration

she’s untouchable, unbreakable

she’s flawless

Yeah, that’s what they say

they raise me up so high,  

but they turn a blind eye to how I got here.



I grew up fast and fell down hard.

I should be dead.

Dead in my heart, dead in my soul.

I fought with my demons,

scraped and brawled with my character defects,

built myself up just to tear it all down

looked in the mirror and hated what I saw



Yeah, I’ve been there. I’ve been broken,

But I stood up and took my broken pieces to my potter;

The craftsman who made me, and he took my bits and pieces

and made me whole.

He helped me stand tall, raised me up,

So that I can be that leader, that inspiration,

So I can seem untouchable, unbreakable.

But I am broken, I am flawed.

 

And I know what it is like at the bottom,

to go to sleep and hope you don’t wake up the next morning,

to have everything you hold precious stolen from you,

to be shaken down to your core,

for every cell of your body to tremble,

to have nothing else to give,

to be empty.

 

I’ve had to fight for this happiness, this freedom.

I wasn’t born with it and it didn’t come easy.

I’m not super-girl or wonder-woman,

I am not perfect, I am not flawless,

I’m a child, a dreamer and a fighter

I am free.





 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741