I never said I was pretty;
The lines and creams and smears
Were to make me an artist.

I never said I was smart;
The failures and faults of figures
Were to make me a parent.

I never said I was honest;
The lies and screams and tears
Were to make me a believer.

I never said I was useful;
The words and tunes and shades
Were to make me a creator.

I never said I was lovely;
The scowls and brows and tongues
Were to make me a shield.

I never said I was healthy;
The frowns and fats and fucks
Were to make me a human.

I never said I was authentic;
The voices and eyes and hips
Were to make me a-nother.

___________

I never said I was somebody;
The characters I've wanted
Were to destroy everything I'd ever be.

[pretty disgusting, I know]

As a side note, forced parallelism makes me want to spew. It's like saying "be creative or you die (or worse, you get a C)." Cue everyone parading around like they're some artistic idiot becaust they can list the different fucking shades of gray a cloud could be and the main painful, horrific ways abortion is harming our pure and good, amazing U.S. of fucking A's morals.