i am flawed, but cleaning up so well

i am a disaster and a masterpiece rolled into one.
carefully chiseled rough edges are all i am made of.
i am hurt oh so easily, and rebound just as quickly.
i am nothing and everything you expect, and so quick to jump to conclusion.
i am passionate and i make it be known, and then cant figure out how to untangle myself of the expectations that i have cast onto me.
i am so lazy and so eager to be somewhere else doing other things.
i allow a bitter taste to sit in my mouth when it isnt necessary.
i am overdramatic.
i am free, i am so upset with it.
i have an incredible sense of direction and i feel i live with my eyes closed.
i wish i was the kind of woman men write into movies.
i am the character you love to hate.
i wish the songs were sung about me.
i am just the person they don't write for.
i am more easily forgotten & loved more than i think.
i can easily write off achievements but only after i make sure everyone knows of them.



i am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself.