“***, human,” she says
With her whiskers and tail,
“This no name brand soup
Is definitely a fail.
No wonder the children
Only ate a bite or two,
The soup is so bad
I’ll be lucky to spew.”

how am i flawed? let me count the ways
i am too emotional when i shouldn't be
i cry over the stupidest things
i will get angry at the smallest things
i overthink the simplest things
i give too much when i shouldn't
i hold onto things i shouldn't
i will be open and closed at the same time
i won't let people in when i should
the list goes on and on, i know
and yet, despite all of this, i am still loved and accepted
i am healed and mended through my brokenness
through my flaws, i am who i am

I am the glass in your window.
Your eye struggles to see me,
Not through me.
Unless I am cracked, soiled or ajar,
Spewing air that makes you uncomfortable.
You keep me for protection
And because my appearance makes
Your house look good, inviting.

Every once in a while,
Your eyes catch a glimpse of your reflection
In me.
So you cover me up,
Hide me from the light
And shield your eyes from seeing
Your true nature.

If I shatter under attack,
You scold me for being too fragile,
Sensitive to the hurt thrown at me.
If the sun shines too bright,
You blame me for being too transparent.
If the rain patters too loudly against me,
You chastise me for being too resonant.

But you knew what I was when you chose me,
Picked me to be here.
I couldn't hide even if I wanted to.

Over time,
The forces pulling me down
Leave me uneven.
Because though still I may seem,
Inside, I am just
A collection of millions of atoms
Constantly moving, vibrating, changing.

Care for me you could,
But instead you choose to ignore.
Eventually replacing me with something newer,
Shinier,
And more like the others.

I’m a victim of my own mind
Can’t leave the past behind
No matter what I can’t hide
From my thoughts, from what’s inside
Caught myself in some kinda noose
The more I struggle the harder it is to get loose
Lost in a world of coffee rings and rain
Wake me from my dreams, great disdain
Wanna stay in my imagination
Holding onto the bittersweet pain of realization
All the while trying to convince my conscience with positive psychobabble
Bound to my superstitions, can’t break this spell
Pulling myself in deeper with this haziness I hold onto
In love with this beautiful mess I’ve gotten into

I have given up my summer
for whom?
Not myself,
nor my friends,
but for that beautiful
4.0,
at the end.