Sometimes, my teeth seem slightly rotten with a honey residue considering, weekends I forget to brush,
Or how my hair waves in this condescending way when I clinch my fist together.
While my bipolar disorder leaves me wilted in emotional dismay, I love how my eyes lay crooked
Across my face as if a wine glass was tilted to her lips
When I put on my glasses during morning's trival stages, lay awake fingering at a salty crust attached to my tear duct like barnacles
And ponder if my breath always smell like a ferret in heat.
Sometimes, the sun doesn't shine one the prettiest places on my being
A life form of an alien drowning in a bowl of rice and festering blemishes lick my face a scarlet mess
The ivory moon startles my fingers, so they look loony in this curved way
Never broken, never broken.
Sometimes, I forget to shower and I wear clothing too big
To hide my oil stained skin so no one will know my gross format
Like a cheesy MySpace layout
A wasted womb occupant
Perhaps a wasted embryo petty with insecurities
More of my days, my lips are softly pink with a hint of mauve
From my overgrowing pain of chilled winter mornings
Cleaving my fingers pale from the crisp wind racing passed my days
And my feet look like paws or a monkey's hand
With eggshell blue wires staining my dermal shield
(Like Christmas lights around a tree, almost pretty in this uncanny way).
All of my days, my skin isn't a tan flourish like my kin
Not a mocha latte from a fancy coffee shop
More like a flask of Valero's cheap creamer
Left out of the refrigerator way too long.
None of my days, hardly am I full
From the strange strains of freckles consuming my sheathe
Or how my hip make my walk look like I have a pole up my bum
But the clear nakedness from my lope sided body
I am a photo
Of normal humanity.