I may not have the perfect body,
Or a simple mind,
But someone thinks I'm beautiful,
Sensitive and kind.

They recognize the pain I hide,
I never have to share it,
For he already knows,
All the reasons that I have,
For feeling terribly low.

What, after all, is perfection?
A simple question of shape, style and complexion?
A vanity deep inside of everyone?
Seemingly the option would be to walk away,
No-one ever does, they will always stay,
In this endless circle of misery,
Cementing it, creating awful history.

I know otherwise just what perfection is,
It's the same in my eyes as in his,
Not what we wear or how we look,
We're changing the writing in the history book.

For perfection is quite simple,
Really, it's very achievable,
For you may not be skeletal,
He will still think you're beautiful,
You may be unstable,
And stuck with a label,
But he won't care as long as you're able.

To love without question,
Support his dreams,
In turn he will love you,
And sew up the seams,
Of your broken soul and tormented mind,
He'll help you release,
All of your kindness,
Your sensitive side,
He'll take away the blindness.

He'll allow you to see,
Exactly who you are,
That to him, you are perfection,
His beautiful shining star.

Copyright© 2014 Jasmine Bryony Holmes
All rights reserved.