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Halo Nov 2017
Look at the girl,
She's flawless.
Her inner beauty shines so bright.
You have to try and play keep-away,
Try with all your might.
She is Flawless.

She says she trusts you,
But you know she does not.
She wants to keep him all to herself,
And she has tied you in a knot.
She is not Flawless.

Look at yourself,
You're definitely NOT flawless.
You may have inner beauty but it is dull and unliving,
Your glasses make your eyes seem too big
And your friends are unforgiving.
You are not Flawless.

No one is Flawless,
No one is Perfect,
No one is You,
And you are You in every aspect.

Be Yourself,
No matter how crazy you are.
You may not belong here,
But there is always somewhere afar.
You are flawless in your own way.

Nat Lipstadt Jan 2014
a  flawless poem
if such there were,
will always be,
the next one

my poor soul,
my rag tag heart
has no censor,
so careless, reckless,
as if words were but
frivolous treasures,
easy spent, easy get

if only, how I wish I
could harvest my best,
with golden cutlery excise
the single flawless poem,
that I know in my possess

lay down this hand so weary
from cupping tears,
be satisfied at long last,
so much so,
that my casket lowered,
hands in repose companioned,
clutching his best, easing the rest,
a paper record to join his ash,
his flawless poem,
at long last
Written in ten minutes when Frivolous Treasure, Ingrid, and SE Reimer
excised it from with me, a triage performed and a poem delivered, fluid and tear wet,  while Mozart's Serenade No. 13 for Strings harmonized what ever music the man has left.

flawless? Perhaps one slightly less flawed.

give us all your names and I will write someday
what my heart knows exists

Words are hopeless, poor substitutes for what they in vain,and we too, we call the heart's decay but this poem give unto me a deeper satisfaction than most...
Your flawless streams of whispers are now shedding tears
Where will they look now when all is loosened
Quite forgotten are the memories that have scarred
This heart can no longer feel them
They are translucent

The dripping sound of pain is no longer heard here in the now
Only lovely music breaks from the soul within
Where will your whispers watch their flawless flow
When the tongue that leads their voice
Is never heard again

I hope that as you leave you will feel the pain you stream
It will haunt every corner your life meets
Then perhaps one day neither of us will remember
Your flawless streams of whispers
Or their deceit

Your flawless streams of whispers are now shedding tears
That can be washed away in the tide of change
Quite forgotten will be the memories and all the scars
As our hearts will no longer feel them
Nor will we be estranged
Copyright *Neva Flores @2011
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2016

a flawless poem
if such there were,
will always be,
the next one

my poor soul,
my rag tag heart,
has no censor,
so careless, reckless,
as if words were but
frivolous treasures,
easy get, easy spent

if only,
how I wish,
could harvest my best,
and with golden cutlery,
the single flawless poem
that I know is in my possess

lay down this hand, so weary,
from cupping tears,
be satisfied at long last,
so much so,
that when my casket lowered,
two hands in repose companioned,
clutching his best,
to ease the rest,
a papered poem record to join his whited ash,
his flawless poem,

his very best

*now eternal,
at long last
first published here
Jan 13, 2014
PoserPersona Jun 2018
The moon sings the languid flower,
  to bloom at midnight hour
Harmonious feast transpires -
  luminescent choir

Petals mirror la hue de Luna,
  but pale below her glow
Though the desert sweet aroma,
  is fragrance plus photo

Neither causing nightly failure,
  in idyllic charm
In fact, those powers are greater,
  together than apart

The moon a long gone distant rock,
  yet pulls on ocean tops
Cereus lures with sweetest tricks,
  and stings with countless licks  

Battered holy asteroid face,
 woos flawless solar gaze
And even though it causes mire,
  lunar eclipses fire

The cactus thrives in driest sands,
  and chokes in fertile lands
Alluring lonesome wanderers,
  promising mere water

The lucid beauty bewilders,
  as much as it can haunt
In fact, those powers are greater,
  together than apart

You, once my cereus and moon,
  were drowned in my love well
Perhaps, I was this to you too,
  though your hole I’d not delve

However, what was first velvet,
  morphed into devil’s horns
Winter shed those thorns in my chest,
  now spring gifts hope and more

The icy grips of each winter,
  provides spring fuel to spark
In fact, those powers are greater,
  together than apart

Although we've gone on our own ways,
  I wouldn’t change the past
For each step was necessary,
  to find true love at last

We were once greater together.

I’m now greater apart.
Alexis Apr 2014
Society is so focused on being flawless.  Perfect.  No one is flawless, not even Beyonce.  We will forget who we are on the inside, and soon that won’t even matter because the physical appearance is the main priority.  Women these days are spending so much effort trying to look perfect, which hurts.  Pretty hurts.  Society is expecting women to look perfect, otherwise people will judge.  ‘Perfection is a disease of a nation’. The showbiz industry is giving a negative message to the world.  Photoshop is one of them.  Making a celebrity look flawless is fooling the world into thinking we must look like that.  Spending so much money on clothes, hair etc. but we don’t need to focus on that because all that matters is on the inside, which most people don’t seem to see anymore.  We are constantly getting the messages in our mind that we must be flawless, and sooner or later, this is a disease.  Some of us can’t take it anymore, which leads to anorexia, bulimia, insecurities, and issues with body image.  Pain also takes over our minds, which is ridiculous.  Even celebrities have gone through this because in our naïve little minds, we are thinking we have to be pretty.  There is so much pressure it takes over our minds, and that’s the only thing we think about.  We look into the mirror despising ourselves, because we are who we are.  Society has created us into thinking there’s a certain way we must look, which there is not.  Our flaws make us who we are, makes us positively different.  Unique.  But we aren’t allowed to think that way because the media isn’t allowing us to.  When people change, they are only cheating on themselves because media displays images of what we should and shouldn’t look like.  It’s not their fault though.  They can’t help it.  Changing, like getting botox or body implant is only giving us a masquerade.  It’s a mask to hide our real, inner beauty, which the media has taken the idea away from us, to become people who we actually aren’t.
And in the end, we know that pretty hurts.
this probably ******
Unchangeable is the love within our souls
Dreaming of soft timelessness
Perceived in fadeless hues of red and gold
Transmuted from molded clay
Imperfect, yet still beheld
As flawless

White shadows of a misted lace attention holds
An honesty in its purest form
Washed in fadeless hues of red and gold
Unchangeable is the love within
Completed souls
As timelessness transforms

Until now, our feet have trod a different path
Yet seeking still the same
Imperfection, with an honest aftermath
Time has taken wing in fadeless hues of red and gold
Imperfection beheld as flawless
Is the element it became
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
maybella snow Jul 2013
studying my face today
      you said
  "i wish i had your flawless skin"
               my skin is far from flawless
you can't see the scars
        lacing my limbs and chest
so maybe i don't have pimples
                 but my skin is not
Derick Van Dusen Dec 2010
If your favorite flower is the rose
Do you not then liken yourself to a rose
Is not your beauty equal to that of the rose

Behold I stand perfect beauty
A white rose among the thorns
Behold I stand for you to see
A perfect beauty inside of me

If mine favorite flower is the orchid
Do I not then liken myself to the orchid
Is not my beauty equal to that of the orchid

Behold I stand handsome beauty
A black orchid among twisted roots
Behold you stand for me to see
A handsome beauty inside of you

A single petal of the rose so delicate of it self
A single petal of the rose so flawless of it self
Delicate beauty equaled only by delicate perfection
Flawless beauty equaled only by flawless grace

A single petal of the orchid so sensual of it self
A single petal of the orchid so ****** of it self
Sensual beauty equaled only by sensual grace
****** beauty equaled only by ****** perfection

Where there is white rose there is you
Where there is black orchid there is me
White Rose Black Orchid You and I
Wherever you go there too will I be

Does not the rose equal your grace
Does not your beauty equal the rose
Does not the orchid equal my strength
Does not my strength equal the orchid

Doth not the white rose possess the black orchid
Can not they bee one can not they be the same

Doth not you have mine heart
As the white rose has you
Doth not I have your soul
As the black orchid has me

The orchid has fallen for the rose
Has fallen for the orchid
And in my field of white roses
You stand a sultry orchid black

If only to look if only to feel
If only to hold if only to love
A rose white is me this night
Take from me this rose white

This rose white this orchid black
Together as one we cant take back
Wrote in 05
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2018
The material body was yet in the making
The first and foremost luminary feminine
ebb and flow heartily pans out
flawless flow to the finest angle.
Across the nadir to the zenith
Fathima eyes on upon it like it
shapes and forms are waxing lyrical:
The pure masterpiece without a mirror!

Arts on the go Fathima moves on.
Praise be to the Lord she being made
to measure inborn mathematical the pi is her!
(For the perfect circle the circumference is masculine
The pi tends to circle the blank space within is feminine)
She can budge equally in the shadow
in patternless pi decimals and in the open,
in integer into a whole full number!

Hops up her first step she looks for ‘the all’
the complete whole the absolute one Allah.
Time and again she steps up but finds no floor
Her measured step by default lays on 360-degree circle
Scans all things at the first go still finds no bottom!

The first luminary masculine peace be upon him
first looks in the open she takes the veiled angle.
Through the evermore pi decimal micro-hole
She looks on and witnesses the first water drop
surfaces up without a base without a roof on top!
It follows through truly the copy of the original
softly springing around the serene water paints  
of all the maters to be created from this first drop.
Fathima looks at it and veils withdraws her reflection.

It’s still remembered in the sky that follows suit.  
First, a star was born stepping in Fathima’s shoe.
It tried so did the full set of the galaxy only to disperse
into a profound constellation never finds a bottom.
Because amidst this water circle floats the first soil.
Allah called it His house that He first created from it.
Every planetary orb pilgrimage around it in the core
known as Ka’abah up to the heart of the earth it rose.

In the pre-designed world after the first masculine
the first feminine Fathima thus did the first pilgrimage.
She walked the walk did so in the patternless pi veil.

Nature is never uneven on the hidden hand of the pi.
Every little fraction, the small decimal does it count
connects to the dot without showing up a pattern
Long live, long live the digital charisma is on the rise!

Retracing time and again the sun rises in the median lane,
yet the black box scores it's only a dark chart at the end of the day!
The Moon is yet to moon over an unturned sublunary-dip
It pulls all, the mighty sea that the earth can't
and sync in the feminine water cycle but save only one
with Fathima floating out of the box it can’t link up!

Like millions, ever wonder where Fathima’s grave is?
The earth strived too to the death bite to print her footprint!
Most of the mass visiting Medina look too see the grave of the holy lady Fathima. It has been a tradition since her death some fourteen hundred years ago. There are two graves where she is buried but which one is her is still unknown. Reportedly she wanted her grave to remain unidentified.
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winning alcohol pay foolishly banish song cross encounters plays belonging famous shift burst alice tunes hood flickers glimpse gleam fleeting grant ride deja vu anticipation spot switch boyfriend order faded wrapped definitely short fish beach clock older dusted block station anchor longest deserve passing mark awhile lovers muse ache island totally existing comfort pride phone greek apollo bleeding unknown psychic powder remembrance tree train helps painted gambling tide tired acting blow build apologies silver fabric especially suspense band cascade flawless heat hunger nearly numb bread bright minus wide looks differently dive beating veins settle turning couch holds saying impression suspension meaningless plastic rich pointless occupied brief tiger sticks stones mask cake bitter concentrate drown forbidden shell dry walks unless regardless moved type shirt lone burns songs negative momentary staying police swing unseen ability analysis worries determined dreamt sink hopelessly 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Composed on 00:53, 21/09/2016 using Hello Poetry's 'Words' algorithm. We don't assume this means something.
DaRk IcE Jan 2015
She was as flawless as air with radiant strides she paints the town. With no voice her thoughts are heard for miles. He long flowing dark hair is a thousand mile journey to her soul. He invisibility stops traffic and the crowded streets stop to stare as she walks by. She knows nothing of it as she continues her journey among the sirens of the city echoing from afar.
A ghostly breeze charms the air today with hidden messages deep within. Something in the air is chilling she thought...
Such a microscopic being in a overgrown city, there are many secrets to be revealed.
Time is on my side she says...
In that moment "She was as flawless as air", ready to take on the world and all its mysteries. Beautiful as rose petals galloping in the breeze landing where they may.
There are many ways to find your soul, you just have to begin the journey...
Harper Nov 2012
Flawless frequency
How can you conceive thee?
Dripping into each piece
Sweet moonlight cry
Fluid honeycomb high
Sensational pulsating glow
Genuine in each
Subtle divine reach
Each way unknowingly perfect
Unexpectedly urgent
Long lost and forever found
Soulfully free and heart achingly bound
Blissful blues
I found you
Flawless frequency
You move thee
Kate Lion Feb 2013
in a room full of peacocks
i am now an ostrich
and i don't know if any of you know how it feels to be a splash of grey in a room full of brilliant blues and greens
it's like being a lonely, pitiful cloud against a blue sky with leafy trim
maybe i have my head in the sand because i don't want to be shallow
but you'd be right if you guessed it's because i actually don't want to be seen when my face looks like this
which is such a cowardly thing to do
(i really shouldn't care)
i read Journey to the Center of the Earth in middle school,
and the only thing i remember is that it was the volcanoes that erupted (like the hives that erupted across my face this past week) that led them to find it-
the heart of life and natural beauty; more breathtaking than the flawless plumage of the peacocks
Rose Alley Dec 2013
Dear Flawless Fairy,
I write to You with good and bad news
First of all, on a positive note,
You are the moon
I can't tell You how great it feels
To finally find You
My sunshine saunter
Was a worthless wander
Before Your cool caress
Graced my heart
Now for the negative,
I no longer feel sad and blue
I know this sounds like I didn't lose and
I didn't
But now I cannot write my frowns down
I only smile because You make everything worthwhile
I used to pen depression on paper
With sarcastic laughter pretending I enjoyed it
But I didn't
Though I wrote such heavy heartache
I couldn't wait for my clouds to break
Allowing me to shine on
Your beautiful face

So I regret to inform you all
I won't be pouring my tear filled soul out anymore
I know how much you enjoyed the pain
But I can't help but refrain from these failed feelings
I don't believe in them

I've been moonstruck at midnight
She once was crescent and
Now is full of my bright
I once was clouded and
Now She reflects my light
Back upon me
I'm so happy :)
She is my beautiful celestial body
She is my elegant flawless fairy <3
Sitting in a waiting room with twenty other men,
All waiting for the good doctor to come; and then,
I notice, we’ve been waiting for half an hour;
Some worried sick, just sitting with no power
To help themselves or others in the room;
Just waiting; and although there’s no more room,
Another one enters. No! Sorry! A pair;
Yes! Most people come with companions who care;
Or, pretend to care, and seek relief here.
They say, “He’s always late. He has nothing to fear!
He is the great doctor!” But why is he late?!
Is he watching? Is he smiling at our fate?
Or, is he sleeping with some pretty goddess?
When are you going to come Mr. Flawless?!
Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m right; but if I’m right,
We are all waiting for him to ***, right?!
Forget it. This room makes illusions shatter;
All helpless, no relief; but, does it matter?
Hossein Mohammadzade
Dark n Beautiful Jun 2014
Your kind of love cripples me
I am weak,
I am sad,
I feel hopeless
You make me feel like raggedy Ann
Red braids and strips stocking
Cherry lips with white and blue smocking
A fabulous smile with twinkly eyes
I am flawless today
However, tomorrow I will be worthless
I am emotionally abuse
By the master of deception
Mr. Lover
Don't Let Anyone Steal Your

Chloe Cresse Aug 2013
Stone cold blue.
They are beautiful like granite
Your poems.
Breath-taking. My eyes are open to a world of clarity

I try to let you go
But it gets me the pain
Because you are my everything.

Like a star in a pitch black night
A rose in a decaying garden
You're flawless my darling.

When the moon shines high
That is when I think of you the most
You're my beating heart in this dead body we call world
My one thought in this pointless mind

I try to let you go
But it gets me the pain
Because you, my flawless darling, are my everything.
you turned off the lights in her eyes
when the streets are filled with darkness
she's flawless
picking up the pieces of broken glass
that once was a heart
Patricia Tsouros Mar 2014
A flawless red curve of
Seductive lips
Your bold tongue
On the cusp of mine
I savor your words
Reckless declarations
Breathed down my throat
Slashing my soul
A wound that won’t heal
Exposed to the memory of
Memories that make it my ruin
The way you wrenched my heart
Racked my mind
Molested my soul
The desolation you left me with
When you were done

I look for Pink
To comfort and inspire
My emotional essence
You will see if you
Look into my eyes.
Cassius Lee Jun 2013
I stopped a girl at school one day
Just to tell her how pretty she looked
And a smile swept across her face.
She seemed surprised I’d ever say that,
As I am “flawless”.

I tossed my head back,
Laughed rigorously,
And pretended that the situation didn’t make me sad.
I told her I wax my upper lip
Because my pale white skin highlights my black hair
Perhaps a bit too much.
I told her my ******* haven’t grown since I was 12,
And I dye my hair deep red
Because I feared my black hair was too boring.
Not to mention my skin isn’t in its best condition
And blemishes pop up here and there.
I put unnecessary amounts of effort into keeping them to a minimum
Because I’m just sixteen
And they will never go away.
It’s not just my face, though,
It’s my back, arms and chest, too.
The blemishes are simply on parts of my body
That not everyone gets to see.

But those flaws are only skin-deep, I said,
I’m overly emotional.
I over-think and analyze,
Thus hurting people I don’t mean to hurt.
I’m often self-centred, too,
And forget the interests of others.
But for an analyst, I said,
I often forget to think a little harder about things.
I’m overly anxious and stressed out.
I want to change, but I never do.
I’m hardly serious about anything.

Never look into the mirror and cry.
You may not be flawless,
But neither am I.
WistfulHope Nov 2014
When I see her every now and then
I wonder if she misses the taste of my lips
I can still remember the feel of hers
Each curve beneath my hands
She was so flawless

No one knew about us then
We both agree now we were a mistake
I wonder if she doubts that like I do
Because I miss the smell of vanilla in my sheets
A thing. A thought.
Same girl in First Kiss.
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2017
the perfect poem*         A flawless poem
eats its siblings

did not know this.          *a flawless poem

chose to disbelieve.        if such there were,
                                           will always be
overconfident.                 the next one
three years back,
wrote a piece,                   my poor soul,
called it "flawless,"          my rag tag heart,
sensing, knowing,           has no censor,
that was an,                      so careless,reckless,
unobtainable condition. as if words were but
                                           frivolous treasures
loved it so,                        easy spent, easy get
pinned to my chest,
funny, loved me back,    if only, how I wish
if ever such thing            could harvest my best
could ever be.           with golden cutlery excise
                                       the single flawless poem,
sumbitch.                     I know in my possess
knew it but didn't.      lay down this hand
                                       so weary    
accept there was,        from cupping tears,
any itch that couldn't be satisfied at king last
be scratched                 so much so
into oblivion.                that my casket lowered,
                             hands in repose companioned
three years back,          clutching his best
on top of the world,     easing his rest,
chose not to believe      a paper record
that life is cyclical,         to join his ash,
and i would always.      his flawless poem,
have in my posses,        at long last
more and more.        
perfect poems.                 11/13/14

now my poems,
like me.

The Perfect Poem
Kaveh Akbar

In god’s gleaming empire, herds of triceratops
lunge up on their hind legs to somersault
around the plains. The angels lie in the sun
using straight pins to eat hollyhocks. Mostly
they just rub their bellies and hum quietly

to themselves, but the few sentences
they do utter come out as perfect poems.
Here on earth we blather constantly, and
all we say is divided between combat
and seduction. Combat: I understand you perfectly.
Seduction: Next time don’t say so out loud.
Here the perfect poem eats its siblings

in the womb like a sand shark or a star turning
black hole, then saunters into the world
daring us to stay mad. We know most of our
universe is missing. The perfect poem knows
where it went. The perfect poem is no bigger
than a bear. Its birthday hat comes with
a black veil which prattles on and on about

comet ash and the ten thousand buds of
the tongue. Like people and crows, the
perfect poem can remember faces and hold
grudges. It keeps its promises. The perfect
poem is not gold or lead or a garden gate
locked shut or a sail slapping in a storm.
The perfect poem is its own favorite toy.

It is not a state of mind or a kind of doubt
or a good or bad habit or a flower of any
color. It will not be available to answer
questions. The perfect poem is light as dust
on a bat’s wing, lonely as a single flea.
Celestial Vince May 2015
Words mean a lot, though miss used a lot
And so I thought why not, type-out my thoughts
At the age of twenty, I fought a lot and I lost
Submitted to reality, thanks to life for this munity
I quarrel with this world to find my golden state, but
Even in the golden age, this imperfect being still remains
Yes I grow with age, learn from my mistakes
Expelling all the weeds, growing and suffocating this angelic
So when I wake-up,
stare at mirror, moisture my skin with perfumed lotion
With the attempt to adorn this temple...
Close to Goodness yet far from purity
at times I may be white, till my robe is  painted with mud
I'm only human, and yes I fall, but get back up
This life is rough, behind the smiles and all the love
Remain deep scars, this life is tough, but I still laugh
Endure the harsh times, and all the storms
If I be iron this structure would be corroded
Filled with rust, burying, who I really am All my imperfections, lust lack of trust, sometimes lack of love, and all the scars can taint my soul

Flawless Imperfectionist
Perfection is close to us, yet far from our reach. But chasing after it, makes us seem perfect, when no one is.
Dhaye Margaux Feb 2015
I know I am flawed, but I love you so much
And I see you perfect for me to fill my gaps,
My imperfection needs you, my coat is your touch
In your arms is where I need to collapse

Heaven is my place when I am with you
My flaws are like necklace to my subtle skin
But to you it's okay, seems you wear my shoe
Your love makes me flawless and perfect within.
Perfect love
Dimitri Ali Sep 2018
Look in the mirror and tell me what you see,
Is your smile weird, maybe its the shape of your face, what about your teeth?
Do some seem out of place?
You're no different from me, I look in the mirror all the time,
Even when I don't need to or when its not wort it.
What do I see ? I see the same as you, all things that I deem to make me less than perfect.
You see we're unhappy with ourselves,
Things we've been taught can be fixed with a product on a shelf,
Somewhere in an isle that feeds off our desire to look flawless.
Yet all we do is buy more and learn to love ourselves less.
What is self love ?
Do you even know where to start?
I don't but I believe that with all love it comes from the heart.
You see we compliment people who talk theirselves down,
But we can't compliment ourselves yet sometimes we give it all to erase a frown.
We're not incapable of loving, you an me.
We're just too blind to see, that we deserve our love too, to be as happy as can be.
Dinah M Aug 2014
Your voice is my favorite sound
Your eyes are my weakness
Your smile spins me around
Everything about you is flawless

I've fallen so hard for you
And I can't just turn back
It's sad that you have no clue
You're the only thing I lack

I tried so hard to make this rhyme
But I hope my efforts aren't worthless
Because I spent a lot of time
To make this poem not meaningless

I may be just another girl
Who cares for you without your knowledge
But for sure, I am that girl
Whose love will never be abolished
for a special man who turns 19 today, riley mcdonough.
-by @hookedstyles
Erin Perkins Mar 2014
Among the glitter and the glamour there's a lonely girl
A little diamond in the desert, lost in this world
In the shadows of the city there must be light somewhere
And so we search for answers, keeping faith in prayer

Melanie's whispers float flawless on the wind
So very faint but I can hear you my friend
Your silhouette dances across the desert land
Are you dancing with God
Is He holding your hand

The path of the missing is a long and frightening road
Sadly there are thousands my friend you're not alone
As I watched the news I never ever thought I'd see
Someone I love disappear into a mystery

Your picture is on fliers and in your daughters' hearts
Someone please come forward; we are stumbling in the dark
One lone footprint leads to destination unknown
We will keep on searching 'til you are finally home

Melanie's whispers float flawless on the wind
So very faint but I can hear you my friend
Your silhouette dances across the desert land
Are you dancing with God
Is He holding your hand

Where are yoooooooou Melanie...
where are yoooooou Melanie..
where are yoooooou Melanie
Can you hear uuuuuss

Silence overwhelming what once was filled with song
We miss you much that were trying to be strong
As I listen to the quiet, wishing I could hear
You saaaaay, "I am right heeere"

Melanie's whispers float flawless on the wind
So very faint but I can hear you my friend
Your silhouette dances across the desert land
Are you dancing with God
Is He holding your hand

Melanie's whispers float flawless on the wind
So very faint but I can hear you my friend
Your silhouette dances across the desert land
Are you dancing with God
Is He holding your hand

Where are yoooooooou Melanie...
where are yooou Melanie..
where are yooooou Melanie
Can you hear uuuuussss

Created by perfection,
Not from without but with great intention,
Physically,you're flawless.
From your toes to your face,
Upto the longest strand of your hair,
Believing this may be a great dare,
But its true,
Its true that the flaws flow from within you,
Not your body,physique or biological make up but the mind,
And to this notion;most of us are blind.
Accepting and loving yourself the way you are,
Makes you shine flawlessly like a star.
Flawlessness isn't in having no scars,or blemishes or birthmarks or whatever,its in accepting all those things and embracing them,if you'd like to change;do that but atleast accept them and embrace them(part of life).
By the way,I'm speaking of physical own views,I really don't know about those of "society"(whoever makes up society "rules"/whoever "society" is) .
This is for all:men,women,girls,boys.
Thanks for reading!!!!! :) :*
Chelsea Aug 2017
A forest-green & tan striped couch, littered with burn holes from forgotten cigarettes, serves as foreshadowing of what lies ahead for the forgotten flower lying upon it.

The flower curls up on this couch, as it's the best view to admire mom from across the room, as she magically transforms eyelashes into feathers with the swipe of a wand.

Ignorantly innocent, the flower patiently awaits her time to bloom, yearns for her petals to unfurl like mom's: flawless perfection.

But gradually, mom's smokey cat eyes become dark shadows of hollow sunken ships, and bright rosy skin fades to washed out colors of furniture bathed in harsh sunlight year after year.

Now, mom buried the bones of the delicate structure she built from inside her womb, and decades later her daughter's dismantled skeleton is scattered ruins of an abandoned sunken city, polluted by the rotten flesh of unwanted fruit; a weak foundation destined to be crumbled relics of an ancient past.

Never once did Mom leave flowers at the grave that she dug.

I imagine the sweetest sounds to a brand-new mother are the screams and wails of her newborn child, reassurance that it's vibrant life lights up the room as blindingly as the birth of a newborn star, a commanding presence louder than that star's explosive death.

On the contrary, I imagine the sweetest sound to MY mother was the silence when she muffled the screams. From underwater, you cannot hear screams for help, or much of anything at all. 

Her solace was the peace felt when muddy water filled her lungs, the darkness found from deep within a drug-induced sleep, where you cannot hear a child weep.

I mentioned the young girl always wanted to be like her mom. And so it was...all grown up when I tried ****** for the first time. I held true to mom every time the rush of warm blood filled the syringe, visual evidence that the blood was thicker than the bond mom and I shared.

Usually when a person's life is ruined by a parent's addiction they will stay an ocean's length away from drugs - but I am a curious cat, ignoring the fact that I do not have 9 lives, and so I welcomed this substance into my veins, into my brain.

The brown lady would wrap me up in her arms each night, then gently dip me in the familiar flame of a fire's flickering tongue. She became the only company that could never overstay its welcome.

And so, for a time I became my mother: "flawless perfection." I will admit that ****** is one hell of a drug, but -still- i cannot see! How could ****** steal my mother's love?
MahoganyPumpkin Nov 2014
Flitting about the stage as would a
sparrow, they wield the weapon that is
beauty with the grace of one trained in the art
of being utterly flawless.
Whirling an inch off the floor as would
a sycamore leaf just about to hit the earth, they
hide the treasure that is
strength with the mask of one trained in the art
of seeming weightless.
Slipping effortlessly from foot to foot as would a
tiger, they deliver the gift that is
performance with the presence of one trained in the art
of confidence itself.

And they bow to the crowd with the relief and joy of one who has never experienced such like in all their small eternity.
I've been listening to so much Tchaikovsky today that it inspired me to write something about a ballerina.
AJ Aug 2014
The beautiful Black Queen
Graceful, misunderstood, too often
She lacks vanity although she is
pure perfection
She floats across the room
Regal in her being
The most beautiful mark upon this Earth
The beautiful Black Queen displays
When you lay your eyes upon her you will
know that you are in the presence of royalty
Of greatness
The beautiful Black Queen is art
Flawless and everlasting
She...she is forever
SS Mar 2013
this is not like getting your heart ripped out and stepped on. i dont know if its worse or better. its more like slowly getting sliced open with a scalpel, so sharp its almost numb to the touch, but the pain hits you in a second when the blood and bones are exposed to air, this new air theyve never seen. this unfamiliar other side of love air, the air they heard of but never thought would grace their nerves.

this is like diving into the ocean with that person you love. staying under for a few seconds holding your breath, feeling weightless, feeling flawless, being flawless. then that person climbs on top of your shoulders to gasp for air, and you need to breathe but you cant get up. how could they do this? dont they see me down here? dont they know this hurts, they needed to breathe, why do they think i dont?

this isnt final. as i write this i still have hope months from now he and i will be on vacation somewhere together. i hope as distance grows and i grow independent he misses me, and i hope i never miss him again. not because hes not lovely, just because he never misses me. why doesnt he miss me? i am so wonderful. he said it himself.

this is a tragedy. i caused it, i need it, i dont want it to happen. i see myself being so worthy of his love, i see myself caving in to whatever he asks of me, i see myself becoming the weakest individual ive known to withstand heartbreak. im hating myself for this.

this is a blessing. ive been waiting for the end for months. i need to be free, to find someone trustworthy who will devote themselves as ive devoted myself to this person who never could give me what ive given them. unconditional, flawless love. unadulterated. perfect love. flawless unjaded and willing to last forever.

i am such a fool. why did i think i would be different, everyone in the world gets duped and i thought i was in for a treat. i thought i was lucky. im never lucky. ive never been lucky. i am so nice. i was so much nicer when i met him. i was so happy. i can still be happy. but i cant with him. what have i done

i hate this
Katrina Maria Jun 2011
Eyes sliver open languidly, feel out the corners
Stretched, palms pressed against white walls
Pull the covers high above my head
Building courage to greet the day

Lungs fill with a familiar scent
Smile, reach and caress a glowing cheek
Next to me, he turns, all elbows and sighs
Find him  in a second with tingling toes and fingertips

Untangle the limbs and sheets
Firm and nut-brown, coarse in the right places
Soft in the best places, he's flawless
Dare to disturb the rhythmic breathing

Wake up, I whisper
Coffee, he groans
Arantxa Oct 2013
At the ceiling
I stare
as the first
sunlight lights
up our bare
bodies in
the hotel room
Never so sincere
you were,
Even more
flawless than you
have ever been
As I turn around
I take a
deep breath  in
and softly stroke
your marred skin
Natalie Hart Nov 2014
all these pretty people
with ******* flawless skin
unblemished bodies
to contain their confident
loving souls
i look in the mirror
and i cry
i can't take what looks back at me
its agonizing imperfections
and taunting discontentment
tonight i want to die
but i won't tomorrow
so i hold on
despite hating myself entirely
Shae Nicole Aug 2014
These flawless fantasies-
Fleeing cruel reality
And the bitter taste
Of living.
Where I can fly to
And welcoming arms.
Away from the terrors
Of unforeseen attacks
These fatal wounds to an
Already breaking heart.
Let me fly
If not to the truth,
Then at least to a place
Where I believe
I am loved.
Keerthi Kishor Mar 2018
When I was five,
my mother told me I was loved.
Years later, she asked me to leave because
I was the reminder of the gruesome past that haunted her.

When I was ten,
my father told me he believed in me.
Years later, he refused to accompany me because
I was an embarrassment to him in front of the society.

When I was fifteen,
my friends told me I was funny.
Years later, they all laughed at me because
I was the gullible teenager who fell for their flawless façade.

When I was twenty,
this guy said I was beautiful.
Years later, he trashed me, tormented me because
I was ignorant enough to overlook my inevitable flaws.

So, sorry for not believing in you,
for questioning your intentions, inclusively, in-depth
when you told me you loved me because
I didn’t want to wind up years later,
learning it the hard way that people often don’t mean what they say.
"Pistanthrophobia is just not everyone's cup of tea."
Bradly S Baker Jun 2014
Your flawless exterior, shines like a self-righteous diamond
Gleaming and reflecting, deflecting and beguiling
Meddling in the emotions and perceptions
Laying waste to the argumentative non-believers
Of your worth
This one is not pleased!
The light that shines on your walls is so much brighter
Than the darkness inside gives it credit for
Is there no path towards the center?

— The End —