As I lay in my bed I can't help but notice the little imperfections,
the chip in my dresser,
the small crack in my wall,
the poster tilted every so slightly to the left,
the flickering light,
the scratch on my phone,
the poorly organized folders,
the fact that the paint on my ceiling is whiter in certain areas,
the stitching of my flannel coming loose,
the fact that my left foot is bigger than my right,
the scar on my left pointer finger,
the fact that my left ring finger bends to the right,
the fact that the paint on my ceiling is whiter in certain areas,
as I lay here noticing the little imperfections I come to a realization,
little imperfections don't cause a system to fail,
my room is still a room,
I'm still living,
it seems to be easier to focus on the little imperfections rather than the system as a whole.