Was I born with cracks in my foundations?
Chips and dents on my skin that expose it for the cheap knock off material I am built with.
Like off brand toys and faulty electronics my joints loosen and my capacity to function fail at the slightest of pressure.
My cracked and sanded down skin letting all who approach know that I am not a premium person, that I am not worth the price of admission to get to know.
My arms shake and composure fails at the most simple of tasks, like a battery that constantly needs to be on charge I sit and stare at the walls of my room as the list of current tasks mount up and I know I am not good enough to complete the things I was made for.
Off brand person of faulty parts, flaking skin and breaking arms of a person poorly built, of a tool unfit to fill the task it was created.
Do not take pity on my poor design, pay out a price to let me shine, I will only further my disappointment claims "I am destined for failure I warned you it would be this way"
So I tell all now before inviting me in, you see the cracks in my porcelain skin. I am not a damaged and beautiful soul. I've not dealt with hardship and been made whole. I'm a faulty, poorly made broken thing, take heed when my loose parts and damaged body come into frame and move over to a person made to last.