I'm broken in so many ways. Imperfect. Unfinished.
I'm depressed.
I'm manic.
I have low self-esteem.
Thin-skinned.
Naive.
Cry too easily.
Lazy.
Moody.
Closet bitch.
Passive.
Passive aggressive.
Introverted.
I talk too much.
Fall too hard.
But we're all broken somehow. Aren't we? All unfinished and imperfect. Maybe I should just accept my flaws for what they are, a thing that makes me human. A thing that connects me to everyone else. They may get better, they may get worse. But for now, they're just a part of me.
Let me never BE finished. Let me never BE perfect.
