I am falling in love with my imperfections
The odd squeak I make when I stretch.
The way my room
is a scattered mess,
how I am always a little late.
I am learning to love
my funny little sneezes,
my knobby knees.
the way I
tap my nose when I think.
mussed up curls.
The thousand questions I ask
I’m not sure why.
I am learning to fail
at early morning routines
yoga and thinking before I speak.
Instead, I’m always rushing from one thing
to the next,
sleeping or reading.
Probably should do my algebra homework,
neatly place my clothes in the dresser.
Make sure I’ve finished my chores
before a night out that I won’t remember.
But I’d rather waste time by dancing
in my room, speakers crank or
tucked beneath his chin as I sit in
Now, lying on my bed, cat right beside me
sketchbook in hand.
Endless imagination makes a
appear on my face.