no one will probably read this, but oh well.
my face is made up of many parts
that seem to be okay,
but they're not.
together, they make my face - a mess.
i have blue eyes that were a brilliant sapphire
when i was younger,
but are now faded, a watercolor, washed out by the rain.
i have brown hair.
my friends will argue that it's blonde, but it's not.
i think i'd know my own haircolor.
it (when i'm lucky) will occasionally fall into waves
about my shoulders. sometimes it's a frizzy nightmare when
i take it out of a braid. sometimes it's not.
it goes down to about my ribs- halfway down my back.
i have hands that are not delicate, but not really chubby either.
there are two scars that i can tell you about.
one goes down the side of my left hand, from the knuckle in the thumb
to my wrist, and it's pale pink. the other is just past my wrist,
still on my left hand, but on the other side. it's purple and white, this one,
and it curves it a crescent shape. both are from my cat.
my hands have a lot of blemishes on them, and my nails
aren't exactly long. i crack my knuckles when i'm nervous.
my arms are pretty strong. there's not much else to say.
my torso is long, and just before my ribs end, my waist appears,
in a dramatic incline. i'm curvy, and i hate it.
then my hips, and i'm pretty much straight down from there.
i loathe my thighs. enough said.
i have a scar on my right knee from when i dropped a glass on myself
-i was exhausted, and it just slipped from my hand and shattered on my knee.
my sister picked the bits of broken glass out. it hurt like all hell.
and then there are my feet. i usually wear converse. there's not really anything noteworthy.
and then my face. cheeks to fat for my liking, a bumpy nose, uneven eyes.
ears that have slightly damaged hearing. a forehead that's prone to acne.
really, there's nothing about myself that i can take pride in.
my mother would have cried.