Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Rollercoaster Nov 2020
Normalcy is a strange word.
No definition is certain and
allowed to be called “normal”.
Differs in different lands.
And never asks for
Hate to come in its absence.
And no-one can seem to fulfil it.
Normalcy seems like a dream far away,
in a distant land that is strange.
Sometimes,
I wonder if anyone is normal.
If not,
Normalcy is perfection.
We strive for it.
And we practice diligently.
And fail to achieve it wholly.
Yet we find normalcy
that is perfection partially.
Zolayshia Oct 2020
My mom always wanted perfection.
I wanted to be perfect but I couldn't.
No matter how I tried.
I couldn't ace it.
I got depressed.
I craved perfection.
I hate this part of my identity.
I want to be perfect.
I wanna be seen as perfection.
My mom hates me cause I'm not perfect.
I can't be myself no matter how much I try.
I grew up with this pain.
Now that I've grown up.
I'm gonna be myself and not care about other people's opinions.
So my question is was perfection another barrier for my mother?
Why couldn't she love me for me?
Does she hate me that much?
Those are questions she won't answer til this day.
I was thinking about my past and how I overcame it when I wrote this.
Anais Vionet Oct 2020
You know what you want, get it. Make sure it responds to your needs - remote-control it, sub-routine it and on-demand it - wring it out.

But once you have it - something changes, doesn’t it? It loses some luster - it isn’t PERFECT, **** it. It wears out or becomes obsolete and the lust is reborn, refocused.

Do you want me? I think you want me - you seem to want to possess me - but do you actually want ME?

What if my DNA could be used to create a perfect, cloned replica - right down to the pheromones - a perfect doppelganger.

Only this - me-two - would be a commandable pleasure doll shipped, Amazon Prime - and perhaps made with a rich, warm polymer skin that wouldn’t age - wouldn’t that be even better? I think it would be better.

But forget about me - with THAT kind of technology. Think about the licensing fee Rudy Pankow could get, or gasp Chase Stokes! - ***!!! dancing around the room

yelling out “Mom!!, MomMMMMMM!!, I KNOW what I want for Christmas!!”
nothing is ever perfect - but it might be perfectly useable
MyReflections Oct 2020
I see him everyday, on a broken pieces of mirror
His pale face, body thin, Eyes sink in tears.
Cry of his belly and brain, is all he could hear
Carrying the weight of his shattered dream
His heart beats in the fear
Will he ever overcome
From this enduring nightmare.
Will someday he can see himself
As he had wish to appear?
Lost in these thoughts, every now and then
He moves here to there
So the passengers, passing on the street
Called him, 'The Street wanderer'.

Sometimes he dives into his memories
Remembering how he had come here
Remembering that once he had his loving parents
His friends, his relatives, all were there
But he left the home and brought himself alone
To do something for which the world can cheer
And as you can see, he reached nowhere
Shedding his hope with every drop of tear.


But forget, what had happened in the past
As this morning, the Sun casts
The lights of bright fortune
What he have to do
is to follow his tune.
Sitting on a bench
That serve him as bed
He takeout his dairy
And his pen.
Started to jot
Whatever in his mind
Satisfied with nothing
He scratched all, in no time
In that anger, he had on self,
He hold his head, he yelp.
He remembered the words of his parents
"Focus on studies, You are not for all this!"
Oh, how good, if he follow their instruction
At least, he can see his reflections.

Time passed from day to night
And he is still, without smile
Sitting on that very bench
He pick his dairy, in his hand
Turning the wrinkled pages, all scratched.
Marking his disbelief on himself.
But this time he is determined
And this very night, he have to find
The rhyme
The very best rhyme.
The search of Perfection
RisingUp Oct 2020
With tests there's right and wrong

I loved getting the right answer

But the real world doesn't work that way
Usually no clear answers.

But I still find myself searching
High and low
for the perfect life circumstance
that will make my heart glow

That will leave me content
Restore my joyful self
Instill feelings of hope
Fill my soul with wealth

But it's a faulty search tactic.

Life is never perfect
It can't fully be controlled
Has its ups and downs
As we continue to get old

For a perfectionist like me
This is hard to accept
If I work a bit harder
I'll never be inept

But this means perpetual dissatisfaction.
Only seeing the bad
The world's falling apart
and everyone's mad

I wish I didn't struggle with my mental health
Or think about this so much
I wish I didn't deeply care
About the world's struggles and such

I must believe I can find joy
Contentment and purpose too
To appreciate things for what they are
Hope and positivity to imbue
All I craved for
Is to see more
Of many opportunities
That opens much doors
But I was left with an option
Fake this -perfect this!
What might pays big?
Thou,
Fake burns fast like the enstrunch fire
And perfection rebuilds, reframe,  re-brand  the inner success fire.
Perfect not fake
Fake not,  perfect more
Yolanda Oct 2020
She is cute, she is small
She's got a pretty round face that glows like sunlight
She is got a pretty little mouth with white glowing teeth that brings a perfect smile to her face
Her breath smells like the scent of roses
Her cute big eyes look like those of Slow Loris
Her hands are tiny like little rat claws
Her little feet like the feet of a deer
And her tininess brings perfection out of her.
Speaking of a friend who I love dearly, she's tiny and gorgeous, and everything she does is just perfect, she's my inspiration, and my role model, she's one of the top ladies I will consider beautiful in every way.
preston Oct 2020
paulSN

Is it asking  too much
to want to hide away  safely?
I never should have met you

yet, I have been  looking
for you all of my life--

  unwillingly.

You are in me now
so deep;  our spirit's gears  perfectly
synced- each gear a pre-honed..
  precision fit--
                even when we clash

                Especially-  when we clash;
                and somewhere,
                in the depths of  my love

                I hate you for that

                
      In a broken world...
      dreams were  n e v e r  meant
      to come true.

      I think I read that  somewhere,
      or maybe someone told me..

      maybe

    
              or something.


I'm open, you're closed
Where I follow, you'll go..

I worry I won't see your face
  Light up again

Even the best fall down sometime
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind

   I somehow find..
  you and I collide

https://youtu.be/ca9ub9rpNK4?si=hWoIcLUFECoXq9f3
To see and hear only perfection in them.
To lose all sense of time.
You see them and instantly are happy.
When you talk to them it makes you never want it to end.
And to look at them and think, "I love him or her so much, id do anything for them."
My friends... This is what it's like to fall in love.
Next page