What I love the most about you are your imperfections. The huge smile that you never let many see. Your large bottom lip that makes kissing you even better. The way your eyes are slightly different sizes. The crazy curls that you never try to tame no matter how many times I ask. Your nose you hate so much but I love how you drag it across my neck as you kiss me. I love all your freckles and your scars and you. I love you with every single imperfection that makes me love you even more.

I was just thinking how amazing my boyfriend's imperfections make him and free wrote
mslu Nov 20

We were never them
their glass would shatter and scatter
when hard times came
but you and i
we may have cracked
but our shortcomings became masterpieces
of what we used to be,
celebrations of what we weren't:

then we fell
through the same cracks we celebrated
and nothing broke our fall
so we floated,
in disbelief, we gazed at each other
where a thrashing ocean of emotions
pierced our stare,
a draining era
that left us like them,
and scattered.

. . .when we happened to us.
Bella Nov 20

I am ok with disturbing the norm.
I am ok with offending people…
To an extent

But I am afraid that the words in this poem aren’t right
I love myself
I love every freckle and fat cell I have
And I’m not egotistical
And I have so called “flaws”
The thing is,
Flaw is a word that should never be used to describe a human being
A better word would be differences
Or even taboo
But not “flaws”

Because while they are not part of the barbie doll image
they are still good
The word “flaw” implies that it is bad
Something meant to be corrected
But it is not that.

You see, everyone is beautiful
And no one’s body has “flaws.”
Stretch marks are gorgeous
Freckles, gorgeous
Cellulite, gorgeous
Thick thighs
Hefty arms
They are all absolutely gorgeous
You see
Our bodies are not something to accept
And live with because you can’t choose Any other
They are something to love

My life is not perfect at all
I have my brightest and darkest times
But having you, the one that I love
Still makes me feel blessed

I just want you to know
You're beautiful just the way you are
Every imperfections that you have
Makes me want to love you more

You're a strong and talented man
But is also a soft, fragile angel
Which makes you different from anyone else
And also the reason why you mean a lot to me

Loving you is a new chapter in my life
A chapter I never thought that would happen
Something that I never expected at all
But in the end, I feel truly blessed


you're a blessing with beautiful imperfections, ljh ♡
elsa angelica Oct 31

I try hard to love
I know love is in me
But I'm not only love
I'm a lot more
I'm a mix of
Awe and scary behaviors
 but I would not
Be me if I was not completely
All of Me
I'm possessive and
I love someone with adoration
Some times with obsession
But my love would not be the same
If I was not completely me
Yet these imperfections
Ruin me

I am not well :(
Dovey Oct 9

Theres a me there’s a me
Who can change her personality
Like a crumpled old shirt

Cause it seems yeah it seems
My beloved, ‘true’ me
To you has no worth

So I’ll dress up real nice
I’ll play as you like
But hiding at the skin looking out from the in is a ‘me’ who can’t say
“I’m fine”

Cause it hurts! It’s hard!
I’m getting really sick and tired of playing of a part

But there’s no debate
I’ll stay the same
Defying you is unimaginable in every way

I’ll submit to the ‘god’ who walks on earth
Love is totally worth all of the hurt

Its simply the kind of love
where the real me isn't good enough
So I cover imperfections up with lies
If I didn't, he'd surely 'fix' what he despised
Irene Poole Oct 8

Do you ever feel like you're in a fantasy land?

Like the sky is just a bit too blue
The grass is too green
The clouds are too perfect
And the shadow of that lamp-post 
Falls at the exact angle so that 
Everything seems painted on, if only for a second? 

Then you look around
See little imperfections upon the passersby
a wrinkle
a cough
a lop-sided grin

These little flaws make us real
Make us human.

And so the fantasy land flickers and fades
bringing you back to the beautiful reality. 

You are here.

Sometimes the world seems so beautiful it can't be real, but it is! So take a minute to appreciate your surroundings.

She wears mascara to hide her flaws
While her flaws find comfort in her empty soul
They fester inside and cut deep
She faces internal insecurity
Hating who she is supposed to be
Her inner beauty ugly as her attitude
Lacking the ability to show gratitude
Angry because it has never been appreciated
It's only been abused by men who left her feeling devestated
Heart broken and alone she found beauty in her mascara as it hid her facial errors
At least it covered her deepest fears
Wiped her heaviest tears
Her mascara became a mask full of errors

Only true love would get her to take it off...

Poetic T Sep 12

She was sewn into my thoughts

      Weaved delicately in my heart

She was slightly threaded,
                  but that made her unique to me.



                    An Open Door....
.....invites you, to move your feet...if you agree
you'd metamorphose from an old self, to a new one,
an open door brings in light...it's a portal, for sun,
air, wind, even fire......presences......emotions,
so they may slide in and out, easily...

in many ways, YOU become the door,
either you allow, or you refuse entrance, to
some knowledge, an opportunity, a flow of art,
an energy...or people...or deep hidden feelings,
could be a love that knocks...when time is right,
it flows beyond control, there're no barriers, no
hurdles...only wide spaces and clear pathways...
heart and mind are willing...no more holding back,
.......never mind, if there'd be half-open,
.........or half-closed moments...
time...gives way for what is meant to be,
..........energies conspire
...molecules grow together into one mass...
...ideas meet, merge into one whole thought
or theory....allowing a glow to flow, and rule,
the creaking and squeaking of the door jamb,
the broken knob...the loosely screwed hinges...
:::even the lowly moss, stubbornly clinging
to the edges of the tiled floor of the veranda,
the vine-y, bushy passion flowers growing wild
on the trellis, they both look perfect...to one
inspired, to one in love, nothing could be amiss,
....all become negligible...dispensable...
.....you show willingness.....to cope with
..........i m p e r f e c t i o n s.......


                        If I...

........were moss, i'd silently
fill the surface of my chosen stoned panel,
my concrete wall...my loved one, in hues
of green...coating its rough-surfaced gray
with tiny growths, so cool to the touch

i'd shield his sturdy, cold and moist body,
my tiny green leaves would be his slipcover...
inseparable, we shall be....i'd be grateful
for, he gives me a home, my habitat.....

.......i'd be the door to his wall...

.....when his existence is threatened
......i'd face all....go down with him
......break into pieces with him
......he and i...stony concrete and moss...
.....would recreate...start all over again,
......he...the wall toughened by seasons
.....and i....the door to his edifice..


Copyright September 3,, 2017

(two connecting poems about doors, etc., etc.
...couldn't separate poem #2 from poem #1...)
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