Broken Puzzle

Breaking the Drapes

I was taught as a child to love myself.

But that’s the last thing I did

Because while they said that to my face

What they had said behind my back was closer to the truth.

To me the grass was always greener.

I wanted the curly hair and I wanted to not be so freakishly tall.

But that’s who I was

And that’s who I am.

My complication was never tainted by anyone other than myself.

But eventually I left that alone because it wasn’t the battle I had to fight.

 My outside appeal was never questioned

It was the abnormalities of my uniqueness.

Yes, I was the girl who got held back

And I didn’t know how to read in my first year of first grade.

I was the child who was consider handicap

But I never looked at myself as that.

I was the child who was yelled at by a teacher because I took too long on a test.

So obviously I had no intelligence to the rest of the world.

I am the person who couldn’t jump rope and ran into walls

Because I had no coordination.

I am the person who has been in and out of depression.

I am the person who has anxiety and panic attacks.

I am the person who has five disabilities.

But while the rest of the world may count me as another statistic

Another mistake

Another abnormality

I choose to ignore those words

To form an opinion of my own

Instead of this illusion you create to make yourselves look perfect.

You tried to put the drape on me

But it ripped in half as I fell to the ground.

And I tried to hide under it for as long as I could.

Ignoring the odds and demons that hide in my purse.

Because I was stuck in this eclipse of emotions

Where all I could do was rearrange the colors in order

To hide the truth.

But finally I have freed myself into my own collection of thoughts.

Because the opinion of the world is nothing but mutiny.

Because the opinion of the world is perfection

And perfection does not exist!

So I will better myself for myself.

I will allow myself to be fearless of myself.

Because the only person whose scarred of my opinion

Is the man who’s afraid he’s wrong!

…and I’m not afraid of being wrong

Or making a mistake.

Because at least they’re my mistakes.

Instead of the mistake of the mask

That was made by someone else…