Confessions of A Perfectionist

When will I be simple 

And free from my complexities? 

When will I cease to fear my actions 

And embrace life’s uncertainties?

When will I stop with the self scrutiny? 

And when is the date of that much awaited unity? 

When will this battle in my mind end? 

And when will I be able to open myself up

To connect with a much sought-after friend? 

When is the date of my death? 

So I can stop taking seconds for granted? 

When will my mind heal its wound

And stop seeing all things slanted? 

When will health arrive? 

And I be able to hold it? 

What is the demon inside

That whispers I am not worthy of it? 

This dark old pit 

Too long have we been acquainted. 

Hiding from the world in fear,

To arrived in its belly, innocent and jaded.

Too long it’s gone on,

Too heavy for a human soul to bare. 

I have told those around me

Do they even care? 

I am faced with the reality 

Of this thing called life.

That we are in it alone

Only you to save yourself from trouble and strife.

They said they would be there 

But cannot tell when I am down.

I do not blame them 

For not seeing my frown. 

That truth of internal predicament 

Is heard only by I. 

No one around can see it

Save that bearded man in the sky. 

I rove these lands in servile obedience,

Through rivers and over mountains,

In hope to arrive at a star-studded oasis,

Or some pleasureful fountain.

I thought orthodoxy would be my answer

Instead I am fraught with dismay.

To my disappointment I have created an ulcer,

It is my turn to pay. 

All provoked by the toxicity of perfection 

And my puritanical approach to this path.

I washed myself in the pomp

Of this cursed virtuous bath.

Of truth and honour,

Ethics and virtue.

I knew not that I knew not

and He put me last in that rewarding queue. 

Watching those I deemed inferior 

Stand first in line.

Rejoicing in those pleasureful pleasures 

I thought would be mine. 

My eyes fixed ahead 

With pupils darting side to side,

Scanning every soul in sight

‘Who will be his bride?’

So deep is pride within me

Its claws sunk in my sickly cells.

I fear I shall be forever a loner,

Listening to the sound in shells. 

This is a pessimistic view, 

Animating my dark shadows within. 

How much I self-flagellate 

For all I have sinned. 

If I could make one wish,

It would be hard to say. 

But to live a life, content, 

And grateful for the day. 

This life is not as dark as I thought, 

A lot I was wrong about, you see. 

If I could choose anyone’s life, 

I would choose me.

Imperfect in all my aspects,

Yet striving for a better way,

Love would be nothing without its shadow, 

as night is the price for day. 

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