You want to tear down the vines of brown hair falling down your back,

You want it to be short, and sharp and manicured; less of a garden weed and more of a garden.

You want to trade your “ugly” dark and cooling green,

For grey or black maturity,

Monotony.

You want to have each person who sees you know exactly what you’ve felt

-and melt-

Calling each expression beautiful.

You want your skin blank, free from painful pimple scars you cried over,

You cried over and over again-

I heard.

You want those past bullies to fade away forever, 

But when the echoes of insults rise up once again,

You will want to pave over yourself with cement, 

tear down every tree, 

rip up all the grass, 

burn it down.

You want to create something new that they will like better.

You want to stifle yourself like a jar with a lid, keep the past as if it was your exclusive secret. 

You want to stay in that jar, pressure building and building until the moment you transform.

You want a butterfly moment; 

To step out of the cocoon and see that carbon has become diamonds.

You want your composition to change everyday, 

in every possible way you want it to, 

For your body to do whatever you tell it to.

You wish you were less was supple willow and more chiseled marble.

You wish you were more of them and less of you.

You wish

you were as bendable as water,

Personality morphing to fit each person perfectly, 

warm and welcoming as a hug.

You wish you were most glamorous;

A clean cut piece of paper; 

Blank and striking-

You want to erase every beautiful poetic scribble that you ever dared to write,

Every alternate reality you dared to dream of. 

You want to replace it all with a parking lot of tar and cement

So that you are useful and not just an unformed idea.

But it doesn’t work that way. 

You cannot scrub and scrub your skin endlessly, everyday,

Hoping to erase the beautiful calligraphy of the worlds you imagined.

You cannot erase what I have already seen;

And I have seen someone worth looking at-

Someone worth listening to-

scars and insecurities and all.

So if I ever see you 

covered in cement and tar,

Starting to forget how beautiful you are;

I will be there 

To help you remember that,

You don’t need to reinvent

Something that is already perfect.