I Can Be Whatever. You Can Be

But Aren't Many Gardens Beautiful Because They Are Imperfect?...aren't The Strange, New Flowers That Arise By Mistake Or Misadventure As Pleasing As The Well-tended And Planned?

It's As If I've Inherited A Skin I Cannot Quite Fit, And So I Walk About Constantly Pulling And And Tugging, Pinning And Pruning, Trying Desperately To Fill It Out, Hoping That No One Will Look At Me Struggling And Say, 'that One There- She's A Fraud, Look How She Doesn't Fit At All.

People Have A Habit Of Inventing Fictions They Will Believe Wholeheartedly In Order To Ignore The Truth They Cannot Accept.

Or Perhaps It Is Some Combination Of Spirit And Desire, Love And Hope, Some Alchemy That We Each Possess And Can Put To Use, If We First Know Where To Look Without Flinching.

Just Once, She'd Like To Be The Exciting One, The Girl Somebody Wanted.