alexa 13h
if you have scars on your body, stretch marks on your sides,
i will make sure you know that i love you for them.
because, they are a part of you, and anything that has anything to do
with you infatuates me.

your freckles make you so much better. don't hate yourself for them.
dont think that just because i don't have them means that i don't want them. they've always interested me, so they just make me more interested in you.

every single part of you infatuates me, interests me, makes me fall even more in love with you.

even your imperfections.
this was just kinda voicing my opinions about how society makes beauty standards so high and if you have one flaw, you're deemed ugly. i just feel that people need to understand that nobody's perfect, as hannah montana once said, and we need to accept all people. imperfections and all.
Ash Mar 5

That's all I have to say,


As perfectionism hosts my eye,
All I see is imperfection.


I know what I should see,
But I do not.
I feel blind... Blind to see me.

Resiel Feb 26
Life is full of imperfections yet you should see
what everything holds for you an opportunity
Insecurity will not bring you anywhere
will not make you someone you want to be
Hence,that feeling is only what the mind wants you to think and feel
Confidence is beautiful
It is something that many girls also yearn but cannot feel
or give justice because of the doubts they do to themselves
They beleive that people around them are better, prettier, smarter, almost to the point that you would consider themselves as perfect but no!
Perfection may deceive you/ us even from the outer shell
Everyone has a flaw, has something to hide or to be ashamed
It’s  so hard to pull  out  a  memory by the  roots

they often break off  like dandelions beneath the ground,

becoming  perennial as sunlight,  deeply  entrenched

in our substance; the marrow of truth down in the bones

surely impossible to disentangle without a trace
Time is the progenitor of  deeply  burrowing  truths

sown from even smallest sprouted seeds of being

Drilling down through the bedrock core fractals

becoming indigenous as the blood in the veins

Deep-rooted artifact reminders, lamenting oft strives to forget

trying a lifetime to unremember ―  shed the masking skin

Weed out the source of the unanswerable questions;

to  uproot  the metastatic  roots  of an enduring  ache
written by:   harlon rivers ... February 2018
Caleb Jagoda Feb 7
they say
real writers
carry a notebook,

the smartest, creative types
jot down their thoughts
and poems
in there.

for me there’s a catch.

i hate my handwriting,
so much so
it ruins the
that could make a good

it’s ugly

not so ugly
that it’s illegible

but ugly enough to where
it’s simply

oh, but maybe,

we all are
Sara Mares Jan 30
This body, it wears clothes and jewelry
Hugs and kisses
Socks, shoes, and the woes of those it misses
Maps of victories won and stories of loss
Littered carelessly across
Each stretch mark and healing scar
Is a visual reminder of how I've made it this far
And when grief is peeled off like layers of soaked wool
Instead of allowing the anxiety to pool
I glance over this body, and all of the things that it will carry
And drop all the bags and step forward, unwary
FrankieM Jan 30
It's 3 o'clock in the morning and we're going 90 down the cold interstate.
Having just left the cafe, we sing-yell along to our music as loudly and obnoxiously as we usually do. Only briefly do we make eye-contact as you glance over at your blindspots.
Hitting a couple bumps in the pavement, you start to turn down the volume. Looking at me as the road starts to curve, you say you find the road's weaknesses to be reassuring.
I ask you what you mean by that, and you say "everything has it's imperfections"
Together we sat in silence.
A good night spent with you.
Anonymous D Jan 2
You are perfectly imperfect
I'd love to hate you
Yet, I hate loving you

What is love and what is perfection?
The two forces that will forever keep



I hate loving you
I'd love to hate you
For you, the one I'll never love, nor hate.
We are better apart.
Apart by fate.
Nayana Kb Dec 2017
What are you really after?
My imperfect outer facade or my perfect inner despair?
Do you want to see the summers change to autumn​s or just a night change to day?
Tell me now you troubled soul,
Are you willing to let me warm up your cold numbing heart?
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