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The platform of my feet
  The weakness of my knees
The flit of butterflies in my stomach

My mouth begins to smile
My thin lips shielding the imperfection of my teeth
My  eyes twinkling from the constellations above
My hair a frizz,
as always.

      I see him

He smiles a crooked smile
His eyes a clear sky blue,
He extends his hand

I grab it, my nails unpainted and bitten to nubs.


He whispers
“You’re beautiful”


I smile, revealing my teeth.

                My imperfections
Mean
Nothing

The butterflies fly away as we walk together toward


Anywhere
Life is not a race.
                        its a test
                               of endurance,
                                    overcoming obstacles.
                                             and finding out who you are.
                       It is not about who finished last,
                                                or who won the gold,
                       Its about the ones who made it.
                               who actually completed the test.
                                                                ­    who survived.
                        and those who believe,
                                     will complete the test,
                                                   the ones who will win the race,
                                                                ­           in their own hearts, souls and  minds.

— The End —