Imperfections, Flaws, Insecurities

My hair is a mess

Yes, my body won’t look good in a dress

Oh, let me guess, my face look stress?

I am not that immature

But why am I so insecure?

I am not like those woman

Whom they worship for good posture

Even my intentions to myself is unsure

I must look good even if it makes me poor

By the way, it is okay if you misunderstood.

 

As I stare into my scar

I questioned the existence of the shooting star

If you are indeed real, then why did it not disappear?

Even if I wished for it a hundred times

Perhaps you also believe that happiness is a crime

 

Step by step, I will gain my confidence

I might pause for a moment

And I will try again after a minute

For sure, it will be hard

But I know my worth and I am loved.