I misread
a lot of you's
I proofread most of your mistakes
you ****** at grammar

I silently made my red pen dance
on your blue inscriptions
that you thought
were unique

I scratched the wrong words
I indented your run on's
I even added a bit of sincerity  
to all your reality

I stepped back and looked at you
you were blotches of red on scribbles of blue
you were a mistake
that I thought I could fix
at the end of the day,
I took that paper crumpled it
and aimed at the trash
and scored

My red pen yearned for correcting many more
but my red pen gave up scratching
and wanted to create its own story
of its very own mistakes
of its own doing,
so it can create a masterpiece of
"me"