I deserve the best. I deserve the damned best. There needs to be something close to an equilibrium.
My willingness to listen and communicate deserves the same gesture. Don’t you dare call me perfect. You’re delusional. I am proudly asymmetrical and am mutating right before your eyes.
That’s right. Me too. Don’t compute me, computer. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Disconnect the dots.
I wear my heart on my sleeve and I always have my eyes on the prize. Am I too dormant to dream?
No! I am growing, vining… Enclosing myself within the sporadic growth that I did not aim for.
But I love it. My muscles burn with figurative fatigue. I yearn to touch light—create my own Nirvana.