I am not what I am meant to be

I’m aware

Yes, I know- A girl’s nails are meant

To be colorful and sleek

Not bitten down by anxiety and picked half to death

Yes, I know- My art isn’t realistic

I never claimed otherwise

Yes, I know- My voice is akin to that

Of a dying seagull

I know you don’t like it when I sing

I know my glasses are perpetually smudged

And my hair is a beast I’ve long given up fighting

I know acne comes from touching my face too much

I know I touch my face too much

I know my skin is a tad too dark

To blend in at school

I know that I am a Mexican unable to speak spanish

I know hair on a woman is unappealing

I’m not trying to be Frida Kahlo

I don’t like it either

I know my calves melt into my ankles

I know my eyes are a generic shade of brown

I know that I am short

I am well aware I need a chair to reach the mugs

I know that I procrastinate

I know that I am lazy

I know that I waste time

I know that I should be getting straight A’s

I know makeup would help my complexion

I am made aware every morning I don’t put it on

I know my flaws already

I’ve lived in the same house with them for seventeen years

We’re well acquainted

I have examined every pimple

I have scowled at every roll

I have fought with the storm clouds

That threaten to drown my mind

I don’t need you to tell me all the ways

That I am not what I should be

I already know the ways

By heart

And to you, I say this:

I

Am a work in progress.

And I know

That the best things in life

Are those that make their flaws

Into something beautiful

For me

For now

I know

That a poem is a good enough place to start.