Perfect

I'm not perfect.
Someone you don't want to see.
I'm not beautiful.
I'm not filled with glee.

I always ask myself
who are you?
What am i supposed to be?
I've got no clue.

I go to the mirror.
"I'm a fake," I say.
Looking at my twisted face.
I've shaped who i am, like clay.

In my mind I know,
I've gone too far.
This isn't me. Now I know,
your PERFECT the way you are.