i am perfect at being imperfect
not so perfect at accepting it
i am perfect at being worth it
not so perfect at embracing it
perhaps there are imperfections in perfection
perhaps my perfection is a transaction
in self compassion

I ran towards the door
not so they could let me inside
I pushed through the crowd
not so i could buy
I thew a coin to the wishing-well
not because it was a transaction
I said nice things to my reflection
not for him to  reply
I ran towards the door
not so they could let me inside
I wanted to feel the option
to be kissed by lips
not the curb of the pavement
I hoped I knelt I prayed
I never asked for a reality
just the right to dream
for a reason to live isn't needed
when i can make a million reasons not to die

I understand
Love to be the appreciation of
What you can give.

No, love is love for the sake of love.

But I see nothing innocent, just pure.
“I appreciate you for the way you make me feel”
A.k.A
“I appreciate you for what you give to me”
A.K.A
“I love you.”

Sure it’s a little sweet but
It’s the only time you don’t mind being
Positively manipulated,
Positively used.
And you balance the scales with:
“I love you too”.

I feed off of you,
As you feed off of me,
And we’ll call this relationship ‘healthy’
And here we are.
Bound by a verbal contract,
Constantly in contact.
And I am stuck in your orbit oblivious as
To where I am headed.
I don’t understand this.
I look for the exit,
Because you are hungry,
And I am poor.