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Sep 2018
You
If you saw all the blank pages
I tried to write,

The empty drafts
Without words,

You'd realize I'm not perfect?

So why must you insist that I am?

Why am I held to such a high expectation,
Where anything less than perfection is wrong?

Where I'm wrong?

And, more importantly,
Could I ever be enough for you?

Could I ever be something more,
Anything more, than a "failure" ?
All this pressure is starting to get to me.
No one
Written by
No one
84
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