My Choice

I am no different from you. I laugh, I cry, I look awful in the mornings but I'll always wake you up in a tender way.

Yet, for all the normality we have, I seem to be cast aside (largely by myself) as a sort of inadequate girl who is far too hideous to be with anyone. It seems there is a kind of acceptable level of imperfection, and mine just isn't.

Yes, you will see all my defects when if you notice me, and I have many more that I could show you, but could I ever find once again someone who will look past those imperfections?

I know my own worth, but it seems that only I can do so, mainly because I'm the only person who will dare to dig deep enough in my own soul.