Hey,

Hey,
am I your perfect girl?
Would you walk around the world
to find me?
Do I smell like roses
and taste
like strawberries
when you kiss me?
Do I tell you how gorgeous
and how sexy
you are
when you are lying next to me?
Do I shampoo
away
my worries
when I have a bad day and surrender
to your arms?
Do I smell like roses
because of Wal-Mart
and change the way I taste
because you don’t
like strawberries?
Do I act the way I do
because of a book I read
or a pamphlet?
Was I molded?
Was I created
by hands that judged me
before they asked me who I was?
Do I like you
because of you
or because I was told to?
Are you sexy because you are sexy
or because I was told you were?
Am I insecure because you make me,
or because
I tell myself I am?
Do I buy my scent in a bottle
or do I create it
with my walk
and with my sway?
Am I angry
because of a past I don’t want,
because of a man that made me a
promise,
or because of a cycle,
I must follow.
Do I cry because I love you
or because I can’t love you,
because I don’t love myself?