I'm short, plump, pessimist with a wrinkled face, huge nose, big face, short hands &legs.
I'm not feeling inferior.
I'm just me.
I like how my lips are torn, my feets & hands that are scarred and the bruises on my ass.
I'm not perfect, neither am I sociable.
I never like running outta my comfort zone.
They call me a freak. Or ajumma at times.
I like it better.
I have no expectations of life cause it fails me everytime.
& I'm bloody sick of the boring lies.
So where does that leave me?
I don't know. Perhaps you can tell me?
Its just the way that I am now; too broken inside.
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