At times I feel I'm half a woman,
On my darkest days, my emotions I scan,
Vibrations adrift, I feel all over the place,
Self-righteous ways, my ego wins the race.
Fragmented reflection, as I stare at the mirror,
Broken pieces of my spirit, attached to my figure,
Distorted vision, as I contemplate on my soul,
Imperfections and flaws, all I see are loopholes.
At times I feel I'm half complete,
Wounded in battles, still I charge to compete,
In a world where my soul was once easily lost,
My spirit, I swear to atone, no matter what the cost.
Looking in the mirror, I gaze into my eyes,
Trying to entangle, what I believe to be lies,
Striving for perfection was once my utmost goal,
Slowly I realize, perfect ain't gonna make me whole.
Windows of my soul, I yearn to see the answers,
Embrace all that I am, though I'm not a graceful dancer,
Awkward, and careless, still I strive for a full life,
Surrender, and let go of these endless, pointless strife.
Every once in a while, I still feel half incomplete,
On my chest, I lay my hands as I feel my heart beat,
Connecting my heart, my soul and my mind,
The other half of me, rest assured I will find.
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