I'm sorry that I never measure up
to you
to society.
Maybe if I had longer hair,
skinnier thighs.
Then, maybe then,
I would look good in your eyes.
If I modeled myself after
everything,
yes, everything,
because you can't really call
the carbon copy
plastic
crayon-riddled
barbies
an adjective that would make them
sound human.
Sometimes I wish
I was good at mimicking
society and perfection
just so I could get
a little bit of your
so-called affection
But maybe I was born
to be different
and that just means
I was born
to be
*alone