Poem: The Real Me

Will someone ever come

and love me

Beyond their rose-tinted glasses–

the me that exists outside of their idealism.

I am more than just an idea.

I am human.

I am woman.

Flawed in all the ways you expect

superb,

Strong in all the ways you may find

undesirable,

Stubborn against the eb and flow of the current

You think I should exist in.

I am raw

and rough

and lovely

And altogether

incomparable

To the pretty painting of me

you have on display

in your head.

Do not fall in love

With an idea

Birthed out of fantasy

And then be upset

when the flesh

and blood

act

differently.

 

 

a. b. martin