is that as a kid, I played with Barbie dolls. 

I dressed them in perfectly fitted clothing, 

and smiled as I laid shimmering apparel over

joyous, thin, blonde beauties. 

I played with them in the bath, and watched as their 

flawless beings floated unbothered by the small waves

surrounding them, their beaming smiles never once fading.

I fear, and will always fear for them, for that one dreaded day 

in which they cannot stay composed. The day in which their

smiles waver visions of unhappiness and gravity pulls their 

weight beneath the crashing tide. Perhaps, 

This concocted my fear of imperfection and gave me 

My need for validation from those around me.  

Maybe, this slowly built every insecurity I now wear on my sleeve,

In hope that I will never show myself uncomposed, 

drowning in the riptide my tears would quickly build beneath me.