-on a person's 20th birthday

When I turned twenty I couldn't wait,
so sure was I to change the world.
Exactly right were all my thoughts
I couldn't ever stop to state.

So I turned fourty while I built and built
on top of my precisely stated schemes.
My loved ones warned me for collapse
but I would never stop, in it to the hilt.

When I turned sixty, felt a faint crack,
not in my infallible buildings
but in my overstressed back.

Now that I am eighty years of age
I know the way to perfection:
the missing line in your design
opens your cage for the future page.

The pretty girls who spend hours in their room,
Counting calorie after calorie
As if each one was their last.
Shattering themselves into tiny peices
Until no one could pick up the glass
Of their broken ribcages
And crushed dreams
Wasting themselves away in order perfect

If you could live your life perfectly
Would you win the love of your dreams?
Or perhaps would you acquire
Drifting dollars stacked by the sea?

Would you float by the moon
In hopes of experiencing
Something new?
Or maybe a time machine
To the past or the future
Would do

You could go back very far
To the birth of a star
Experiencing it
Again and again
Until your mind split

So, what if I told you
Life would lose its meaning
With accurate perfection
And there would be nothing
To live for
In days full of bore

So, enjoy your life
While you can
For the only thing perfect
Is imperfection

Gloom rocks back and forth in that old rickety chair,
Weaving a noose in her lap when Perfection draws near
Singing a song of cheer.


"Hello, Gloom!" he greets.
"Hello, Perfection." Gloom greets.
"What may I do for you today?"
"No, Gloom." Says Perfection,
"What may I do for you today?"


Gloom sighs. "Well,
Your fingers will do well to weave this noose for me,
Won't they?"


"Aye! They will!
They will knot a noose so fine and well
It will be the finest noose ever woven!"


"Well, yes,
I suppose so.
Here, the noose.
Have a seat,
While I go to snooze."


And upon getting the noose,
Perfection weaved...
And weaved...
And weaved...


"Curse it! No good!"
I must unravel this!"
And unravel this, he did.
And his fingers went to work a while.

"Ahhh...look! A piece of fiber!
If not perfect, I will be seen a fibber!
I'll weave this again!"


"And again!"


"And again!"


"Oh, no!
Not quite yet.
Argh! my brow has broken a sweat!"
Time and time I have spent!
Why will this noose not be perfect?"


"Oh, Gloom...
Her work imperfect be
And now mine alike.
Oh no...
I cry. I cry.
I'll tie this noose and die!"

Little by little
I am
learning
to
let
go

I am learning to let go
Of rehearsed questions and unanswered responses

Of missed opportunities
Expectations and disappointments

Of words not said, feelings not felt, mistakes not rectified

I am learning to free myself from perfection and guilt
Allowing myself to marvel at the chaos of life
And continue to grow amidst the wreckage

I am learning to let go of people
Watching them walk away with smiles and understanding
Accepting that it wasn't our time
And if not in the future
We will meet again in another lifetime

I am learning to let go
Slowly
I am learning to let go
And in letting go
I am learning to hold tighter
Hold faster
Hold fiercer
To all that should never be let go