For granted

By Daiah   

I open my eyes with ease and drag my feet.
I raise my hands to wave and think about what I have heard.
I turn right or left and compare my height to somebody else.
I dread combing my hair and wonder when my face will ever be clear.
I rarely smile because there moments when my teeth make me feel like a beaver.
If I was smaller I might look better but there are days I think I ought to be bigger.
If I had to pick a shade of skin I would choose one off the colour spectrum, maybe that way I will not feel defined by what I think others see.
There are days I feel like an antique whose importance lies in being hidden.
Why was I born dumb?
Why am I missing an extra limb?
Why can't I see the world all around me?
I wonder what it feels like to go to the bathroom on my own..
I wonder what it feels like to actually sleep and not worry that all my hair will fall off..
My skin is in constant pain and its driving me crazy.
Why don't I have all my teeth? Why is my nose not where it is supposed to be?
Why can't I be ordinary?
What we wish we had others wish they did not, what we have come to despise ...somebody would trade anything for..

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