My hair is sticking straight out on one side.
I’m enveloped in an oversize sweatshirt. It reaches nearly to my knees and is fraying at the sleeves.
I’m a little too chubby and a little too pretentious.
I’m just smart enough to never know when to keep my mouth shut.
I dream of beauty but I always sleep through my alarm.
My eyes may shine, but God knows, gold investments are volatile.
I am picture perfect imperfection.
And I wonder, if you really did come back today…would you be coming back for me?
Would you take my hand and say, baby girl, we’re in this together?
Would you kiss my forehead, laugh as you spun me around? Would we act like reunited lovers?
Or would you pass me by?
Would you stop to criticize my bare feet and my off pitch singing?
Would you tell me to get back in the game and try harder? Would you hand me a map and walk away?
Maybe you came back for perfection. If so, sir, pass me by.