she sits in her bedroom late at night
she's lying in her bed but she can't fall asleep
she's tired but she has a lot on her mind
she stares up at the white ceiling
she immediately thinks of clouds
clouds in the sky, so white & fluffy
imperfect, yet perfect at the same time
'why can't the world be perfect,' she thinks
but is a perfect world really perfect?
if everyone were perfect, everyone would be exactly alike
originality would be dead
there would be no comparison and no risk
everyone would be exactly the same
like billions of copies printed out of a copy machine
she falls asleep until the sun rises
she gets up from her bed and turns on the light
she stares into the mirror on her vanity for a long time
she opens her drawer full of makeup
she reaches for the mascara on the left
she then looks at it for a long time
and then, she tosses it into the garbage can
'i don't need that to be beautiful,' she thinks,
'i was born with imperfections, but imperfections are
b e a u t i f u l.'


all mine <3