Perfect

A Story by Rusty

This is a story about how I Met The one...

No she's not perfect for me.

She's not perfect for anybody.

But if we could just meet in the middle...

But I have to give a little, but
instead I give everything. It's too much.

I can get it through my brain but not my heart. No my heart has other plans. So why does it keep beating?Neither this can I understand.

I'm always give too much. I give the fools lot. All of it.

It confuses me. Because if I give it all away how can anything be left, yet there it is. It sit right there on the table staring back at me.

Well, because how it feels just when we touch.

Even though we don't anymore.

No she ignores me, blames work which we both know just isn't true.

A fools lot.

She's the cure for my disease.

Yes she's just right for me.

Perfect.

I met her... the one.

That one! See her? Of course you do. We all do don't we.

She's not perfect for me.

She not perfect for anyone, not even herself.

But it doesn't matter because it's all lost, for naught.

For weary bones begging for the dust.

Cover the eyes in sand so that maybe they will shout "Look!" no more.

That would be perfect.

Rusty