I used to think I was flawless, truth is I am less than perfect.
I can't believe how awful I am, but I mean, what do you expect?
I am less than perfect, that much is true, but I can't help but wonder
What does perfection physically look like? Each of these ideas I plunder.

I don't know. I'm not sure about anything anymore. Haven't a clue.
Everywhere I look, it's just multiple copies of the darkest shade of blue.
Everyone stares at me, their soulless eyes, a dead, glazed look.
So I try to keep my head down, hiding behind my many notebooks.

Perfect. Why even have a word for something that doesn't exist?
It's a useless word, something I try to avoid but it always persists.
Sometimes I think about if I were perfect. What would I look like? Act?
Then I try to push the many thoughts away, they're way too abstract.

What does it mean to be perfect? It means to not have ANY flaws.
That's all I'll ever hear, "Be more perfect, you'll gain some applause!"
I hate that I have live with this idea of perfection, it's a "utopia", so dumb.
So I have to change myself to be the person that people want me to become.