Done
My legs are scarred and bruised, and that's the way that goes. My teeth are uneven and my hair is wilder than barbed tumbleweeds. I have those Latina hips with an Arabic nose. And there's not much that I wouldn't want the world see. The one with the chipped nail polish and the surgery scar running down her short limb. Chaotic and sparkling all at the same time. She's lost in her own personal sea of sins. And there's nothing that doesn't occupy the fake walls of her mind. No balance of thin or thick, just maybe might be in between. There is no other person of her kind. But that's just the way that it has always been. Sob story, perhaps but it's alright in the light of her eyes. Thankful of all that has been through her entity. Patiently waiting for the time to be realized. Even though it might never give her pity. You don't need all those lights shining at her face. There is nothing wrong with being loved by one. There's no wrong amount of fame and going at your own pace. You are beautiful, you are you, and your story is never done