The inner turmoil to be perfect.
The lack of perfection.
The bumps and bruises.
The internal bleeding.
The ache at the loss of someone you love.
The ache to rid yourself of someone you hate.
The need to rebel.
The need to be perfect.
Perfect.
Perfect.
Perfect.
Never quite good enough.
If only the duct tape could patch the blemishes that displease you so.
could make me a little more perfect.
A little better at school.
A little faster on the field.
A little better looking.
A little more everything.
For you.
But duct tape isn't magic. It's duct tape.
I can pretend to be perfect.
But I'm not, and neither are you.
Things duct tape can't fix...
You.
Me.
Us.
This is so good. I love the way you ended it.
ReplyDeleteI love your posts, you're an amazing writer.
ReplyDeleteGreat ending. Love how short the list is, it really adds to the greatness of the post.
ReplyDelete"But duct tape isn't magic"
ReplyDeletethanks.
"The inner turmoil to be perfect." From the very fist line to the very last word.. Loved this post. You are a great writer!
ReplyDelete