The imperfect me don’t always make the right decisions,
The imperfect me don’t always say the right thing,
The imperfect me isn’t the perfect daughter,
But the imperfect me will say it all.
The imperfect me has been wounded,
The imperfect me has been scorn,
The imperfect me is a survivor,
The imperfect me is someone you know nothing about.
The imperfect me have laughed and cried,
The imperfect me is fighting it all,
The imperfect me is perfect enough,
And this is all you need to know.
Poetry
Comments are closed.
I like the self-love at play in your poem. It’s such a great thing to acknowledge your own imperfections, what you’ve lived through, and how all of that affects the present-day “you.” Some of your lines use plural after the singular “me,” though (The imperfect me don’t/have vs. The imperfect me doesn’t/has) and I thought I’d mention that.