A blurred version of myself stares back at me

the trail of hot tear stains linger on my cheeks as I ask the reflection

"am I beautiful?"

the question presses into my mind,

keeps me awake and restless at night

I pull at my freckled skin

at my knotted red hair 

desperatly wishing I could abandon my body

and instead inhabit someone with a

smaller stomach

shinier hair

clearer skin

a vision of a woman who has been shoved down my throat 

scince I was old enough to comprehend a telivision or a magazine

with a seemingly perfect body 

worthy of love and happiness because of her "flawless" apperance

but the thought arises in my mind,

what is the true meaning of being flawless?

 does it exsist

or is it an idea that has been strategically placed in our subconcious

to make us long for products that will make us

desierable,

perfect

I am not perfect

I procrastinate

I don't get enough exercize

I overthink every action of my life,

but I am flawless-

I am flawless because  even though I am not content with how I look,

I smile everyday

I make very bad jokes,

and I laugh at myself

I don't make many friends,

but I cherish the ones I have

I love to eat,

and that's okay

being flawless is an perception that has been corrupted and stained 

but it is real

it is achievable 

I am flawless because I am brave enough to be at ease with my flaws