Imperfect

Never being good enough for anyone, not even yourself.

I walk to the mirror and I stare.

I begin to think life isn’t fair.

I see myself and all my flaws

Glowing under the dim light from the

sink

I then imagine all the things,

that I could change to make

everyone else happier,

My height

my face

my weight

my body

Because in a world filled with

perfect, I simply do not fit in.

And even though I try my hardest

I cannot be pimple free or thin,

I am

Fat,

ugly,

scarred,

imperfect.

And in my world my key to success

is something I cannot possess

because society has said those

who act or look a certain way

are vastly more superior and

I am

Inferior,

damaged,

broken,

imperfect,

I bring out my razor and

begin to shave. I shave softly

at first but then I see hairs

that I missed. I go again, but

this time I force the blade

deeper, the hairs are off

but now once again

I am,

scarred,

lonely,

lost,

imperfect.

I shave my neck and think on

how easy, it would be to shave

a little faster, and cut a little

deeper. AND in one swift move I

let out a smile. I begin to

cry as the red liqueur of life

flows down my neck and onto

the sink. In the end,

I am still

fat ,

ugly,

lonely,

and imperfect.  

Author's Note

Ignore some grammar issues, and slight format issues.

Reviews

[Isimbabi]

Nice poems. Keep them coming.

[iamshadowine]

this is a perfect poem! i loved the way you've written it. i could imagine myself standing right in front of the mirror and saying stuff like that! well done! i have a similar poem to this one, so definitely i could relate to it very very much! keep it up! keep writing :D