Memoirs Of A Teenage Heart

Snowflake

Snowflake

You call me a snowflake
as if I'm fragile
valuable
and dainty,
as though my every move is teeming with such grace 
even ballerinas would be left in awe,
you say it as though I'm beautiful and unique
my very design lending to my wonderful obscurity,
as though I'm something so special
so precious
and so rare
that you barely see enough of me to last without

But how can this be?
I am nothing special
nothing precious
certainly not beautiful,
fragile yes
unique quite possibly 
but that's where the similarities end

I am not a snowflake
but I am cold -
so cold
at heart