For sale: Crocs, never in fashion

Which fairytales ended with bruised princesses?

Childhoods wasted, making other kids’ toys

I think it’s like a light switch

My personality that is

On

Off

On

Off

On

Off

On

Light bulb breaks

Oops

Do people like me more when it’s on or off

Do I need moths, or want them

Do I need myself to be a moth

Do I know where to go when there is no light

Trying to explain it, is like trying to find a switch in the dark

You know the feeling, you know the sensation

But you are grasping at blackness

You are describing colour to the blind

But you are blind

Off

I like the idea of perfect, Amy. I too chase perfection. In my lying mind it isn’t for a man it’s for me. It’s to one day look in the mirror and be happy with who I am. But I can never be perfect. And therefore I can never be happy. I resent that imperfection in me, like your parents resented that in you. It made you mad. Lucky for me I was born severally mentally ill (mad). But the cute manic pixie dream girl kind. I hope. I lie. I like the idea of perfect, because perfect women get happy endings. Perfect women don’t skin pick their legs until walking is painful. Perfect women don’t cry themselves to sleep. Perfect women don’t starve themselves then binge eat. Perfect women perfect. And perfect can be loved. I cannot be loved. But I can foster an idea of the perfect me maybe others can love?

I lie. I hope