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About the night, the hungry bellow—calls
resurrecting at the drunk of dim
where laden limbs curl
up in moonlight breath.

Growing closer, louder! I hear it
moan out, pulsing in my head.

Entranced, I follow.

Among silver rock, a well-like hole
******* deep in the ground, pulls —
me to its edge.
My gaze trips

over,
collideswithblack
hallow's insatiable desire
MORE!
cries.

To fill, to fix,
to feed, to find
the focus of my mind!

More, more!
I filled, I fixed,
I fed, I found.

The more I filled, I fixed
The more I fed, I found
the emptier it became.
I became.

The hungry bellow swallowed
all, and soon it swallowed
ME.
Perdue Poems Jul 2019
I curse the mind's divine plan
as I lay in valley's low
gazing upon myself a god
and a perfect smile aglow

whilst I toil in my misery
my soul tied with stones
my statue's likeness stands above
revolted at his lesser clone

Look at how he humbly gloats
His skin golden perfection
A mind more clear than unstained glass
A body crafted in circumspection

but though I pull my nails
with a revised renewed edition
with every labored detail
capturing perfection

this tortuous image
calms my heart
stabbing it with hope
for a better start

and I hear whispers in my valley
selling nectars of complacency
spinning truths from fantasy
of how I too one day may be

but as my hands try to summit
the hill soars ever higher
and my mind it pities me below
Remaining on my pyre

and my blood steams
and irrational rashes grow
as I come to realize
I'll forever remain below
Empire May 2019
I disappointed myself today
Not that it probably would have mattered
Because sometimes I'm just sad
And today is one of those days
So, I'm going to sit.
On my couch.
In sweats.
Eating chips.
Watching TV.
Writing poetry.
Until it stops hurting.
Or until I'm interrupted, whichever comes first.
Empire Apr 2019
I never fail
You didn't teach me how
You taught me to be perfect
Or else you'd be
disappointed
You told me you were perfect
And always right
Not through your words
But through the anthem of your actions
You held me to standards
I would never reach
And it tore me apart
Because I didn't understand
How wrong you were
How many lies you told
I looked up to you
I took your word as gospel
And my gospel betrayed me
I'm not sure what I am any more...
but I know I don't believe in you.
Ditte Jakobsen Mar 2019
Perfectionism
a disease
it eats me up
and makes me bleed
internally my mind is on repeat
"notgoodenoughnotgoodenoughnotgoodenough"
from top to toe to inside my soul
my body aches, I want
to scream, cause
it eats me up
Perfectionism
Empire Mar 2019
I’ve always hated
That I wasn’t perfect
I writhed in agony
Hating myself for what I am
Human

My family wasn’t perfect
My friends weren’t perfect
I wasn’t perfect
Nothing was perfect

But constantly I was confronted
With this image
This abstract concept
Of what I was supposed to be
And it was always
A model of perfection
The perfect life
The perfect lie
And I believed it

They always had good intentions
To give me my “best life”
But no one lives like that
We have so many flaws
Our best life cannot be
A perfect life
But no one told me

They made it look
Like they all could do it
But all I was seeing
Were masks and games
To hide their imperfection
So I learned to hide mine
Behind smiles and niceties

But all the while
I was dying
From the
Lies of perfection
annh Apr 2019
Do not try to count the stars,
Or measure the distance between now and when;
Leave room for the unknown.
‘For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.’
- Vincent Van Gogh
Not written, but discovered––
words are hiding in your heart.
Hear your own eternity
the moment you provoke love’s song.
Forget past contact with the pen.
Listen to experience.
Crippling sadness
need no longer choke your voice.
Life takes your breath and gives it back:
inspiration means “breathe in!”
A heart like yours can hold the world
waiting at your fingertips.
Broken Arpeggio Sep 2018
It is a symphony of distortion
That unfolds before my weary eyes
A complicated but intricate body of work
I fight daily not to reprise

The opening sonata is slow, yet eerily intriguing
Simply starting with a beating heart
Never knowing the tempo each day will bring
Due to inconsistent sight reading from the various nourishing parts

Switching to adagio brings a fluidity of movement
Though the pace is still quite slow
An integration of crux and marrow can be painfully tedious
Thus suspending vital balances and flow

A minuet seeks to pull these things together
The lively dance of mind, body, and soul
While entertaining and fun, it can bring about an urge for perfection
Inciting an overwhelming loss of control

Finally, a sonata-rondo gradually calms the madness within this body of work
Accenting an inotation that is both a bright and hopeful sound
Yet, it still holds tempo, not willing to relinquish
The rigid temperament previously found
The music found in daily struggles, and the dance we do to manage them...

Music + Poetry = Life
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