"imperfection" poems
Together they were the perfect team.
She was tired of perfection long before she met him. Constantly having to put up a successful front was exhausting, but her barrier of bravado was faltering.
It's hard to find imperfections in an idyllic world.
He didn't want to live in the life of his reputation anymore. The tornado that his life had become was beginning to ruin him and he wanted nothing more to find some quiet.
It's hard to find solace in the storm.
No longer did she want to create masterpieces; she wanted to wreak havoc. She had a taste of the life she wanted, but once you take the first few steps on the path of self-destruction, you cannot turn back. The whisper in the wind becomes seductive. Like a drug, she needed it. She made a U-turn, a complete diversion from the road that had been paved for her. She felt a rush from the change of direction, and fell in love with it. He was her change of direction.
It's hard to find fault in someone that provides the mess you've been searching for.
He wanted nothing more than some peace in his whirlwind of a life; maybe that's why he gravitated towards her. She gave him the comfort that he had desired for years. She made him feel as if the rollercoaster, designed as a downwards spiral, that he has been riding since birth was starting to calm down. She became the sense of calm in his brutal life.
It's impossible to reject something you have been seeking for years.
Together they were unstoppable. She lost herself in his chaos and she took it on herself. She was an angel who lost her way, blinded by desire for imperfection and love for a boy that finally made her feel again. He was a hurricane that found the solace in her that he has wanted for what felt like an eternity. He revelled in the peace she brought to his life and he loved her more than he could articulate.
She found her demon; she became a fallen angel, the devil reincarnate that took the chaos out of his life and put it into hers.
He found his angel; he became a quiet rainfall that gave his tornado to the girl that craved the destruction it created.
Together they were the perfect team.
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 3:42 PM UTC
I never knew what beauty was until I saw him
With every imperfection,
With every stumble,
and with every stutter,
My heart knocks hard inside my chest
Trying to escape
Hoping to be captured by his warm, calloused fingers.
And you don't even know who I am
That day you bumped into me
I dropped all my books
You helped me pick them up
And I got to look into your eyes
They were a lovely color
Not even Picasso could recreate
And you still don't even know who I am
We bumped into one another again at a party
You slurred apologies and "excuse me's"
And I laughed it off
Trying to Ignore the fact that your hand was creeping on my waist
Your fingertips igniting sparks in my skin
You held your deep gaze with your Picasso-colored eyes
And dragged me into a room tripping over nothing
I thought you finally knew who I was
The next day at school you bumped into me again
You had dropped my phone
This time you didn't pick it up
And you walked away without a second glance or apology
And you still don't even know who I am
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC
A bleak motive, turning in a black backwards motion.
Fluent in rushing, pursuant in the crushing.
Ebony wood, the serenity compared to the knife.
A stifling recollection, within the house of corrections.
Was it a natural selection, gazing within the angel's reflection?
Garbed in white, and in her conviction.
A change of direction, now...
The resurrection of our mutual affection,
Was it over protection, or was it just mental rejection?
The pain was only an imperfection, built within all our disconnection.
My sense of direction gone within your vertical selection,
left with words- sharp like a needle;
sticking an intravenous injections.
So, should I offer my protection? Moments, within sight of the point of intersection?
No, keep on...
Keep on spreading the rejection infection.
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 2:10 PM UTC
i wish we'd met under different circumstances,
in a beautiful parallel universe.
where the dull blue skies we dwell under now were light,
and the hatred we respire no longer spewed from our mouths.
i want the air to be cleared and our brains
fogged from the heartless reality we maintain.
i want our imperfect utopia to be untouchable,
a place of perfect imperfection,
where i can love you with all my heart.
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 9:05 PM UTC
This world was built on a foundation of perfection
No weight lies upon our shoulders
Each person needs no other to survive
No others need to be added to this perfect world
For perfection is perfect
But the storm rips us apart
I huddle by myself
Covering my eyes to make it not true
The pieces of the world cut through the air
Not just the air, but my flesh, my soul
The others cower alone as well
We all hide our sobs
And muffle our cries of pain
For Perfection is not weak
The storm moves on
And the world is now dull gray
The wounded tend to themselves
And the children cry alone
We do not reach for the pieces we have lost
But instead begin to build a new world
For Perfection knows no past
This new world is perfect
Each person takes care of only their needs
Nothing can be added or lost to make it less perfect
But the perfection weighs upon my shoulders
And slices into me like glass
It hurts so much I cry
But no help is given when I reach out
For Perfection does not care
Doors close
Windows slam shut
The people scatter as they hear my rage
They do not want to talk of or hear about the terrible past
The future is what matters, they say
For Perfection does not know pain
But I find another who shows pain
The other and I, we search for the pieces of the lost world
The other and I, we lay them out
But the pieces do not fit
What has been ripped apart cannot be fixed
For Perfection is not in the pieces
The other and I, we show the pieces
To the citizens of the new perfect world
The past stands before them
Some faces are masked
Some are in tears
Worse are the cries of anguish
But each person does not acknowledge any other's pain
For Perfection is self-sufficient
The other and I now realize what Perfection is
It is covering what's inside
And pretending emotions do not exist
It is showing your faults to no one
And not caring for another
It is thinking only of the pain you are in
And being swallowed by your own misery
So much that you forget that you can heal another's pain
Just as they can heal your own
For Perfection is a mask for those too selfish and weak to show the pain inside
For Perfection is forgetting there are others like yourself
For Perfections is not knowing
That Perfection is not real
The other and I, we stop putting together the pieces
The other and I, we leave that perfect world
The other and I, we begin to make a new world
Full of imperfections
The other and I, we do not hide our pain
We show it to our imperfect world
And because it is shown
It drifts towards the heavens
And because the other and I, we show our imperfection
The imperfections fill our world
And the other and I, we begin to mend
For imperfection is healing
They all begin to see
The happiness that is brought to the other and I
The other and I, we teach them
How to show their pain
To display their imperfections
To heal the wounds inside
For imperfection makes our world beautiful
When new pain is found
We display it to the world
We help others as they help us
We are dependent on each other
Losing a person fills us with sorrow
A person being added fills us with joy
For imperfection connects us all
To say our world is perfect is far from true
Perfection and imperfection should never be compared
Pain is in our world, but there is also happiness
Loss, but also gain
Every pain we feel is matched with joy for something else
For imperfection means to have emotion
For imperfection means to live
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
you can either
keep yourself up at night
wondering
"why me?"
you can hide under your covers
and tell everyone
you're wrong and you'll
never be right
or you can see all this
heartbreak
pain
conflict
imperfection
as an opportunity
to emerge from the concealed depths
to the gleaming luminescence
and become stronger
it is your choice to decide
whether to drown in your troubles
or to courageously survive
because the harder the struggle
the more spirited you become in the end
"the deeper the mud
the more beautiful the lotus blooms"
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 12:39 PM UTC
I'm in great depression
in life that is my main obsession
it holds me like I am their own possession
wants me to say "I'm fine" instead of my real emotion
keeps my feelings with succession
comes out of nowhere & attacks me with such aggression
only leads me to one direction
sadness, madness, numbness, & no other kind of expression
I tried to say my confession
of how it goes through progression
at times it gives me an impression
that I'll be better soon, instead I am left with its **********
also tells my mind to have some session
speaks to me all about my imperfection
it gets scary in there with all the tension
saying I am some sort of infection
that needs to be a suspension
eternally telling me a suggestion
for all it wants to mention
is to end it all & leave everyone out with no some sort of connection
so it will leave me hanging with no protection
to vanish myself in front of a mirror & see my own reflection
of how I'm not such a great exception
and I'm not at all a perfection
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 8:19 PM UTC
Perfection is all you ask,
Staring into your reflection,
Your minds own rejection.
You lost your confidence
to embrace imperfection.
To the extent,
You exaggerate,
That life would be better,
If only;
You could appreciate,
That this is fate
And you need to accept
What is left.
Take a breath;
A step back;
Relax and realise,
Its not about
S h a p e or SIZE.
Open up your eyes,
To the beauty inside
- us all.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
Beauty vs beast
The petals of the rose
Draw all the attention away from the thorns
It is fascinating how a single flower can be so beautiful
Yet contain a hint of ugliness in it to
Just like the peacock
Which has a million stunning feathers on its tail
Drawing attention away from its feet
It saddens the peacock itself
When it compares its beauty to the deformity it contains
Nothing is perfect in this world
Dont expect it to be
If these beautiful creations contain imperfection
Remember somewhere we are also flawed
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
Precise and organized
is the place we live.
A chair, a city, a country, a world, a galaxy,
all have systems of organization.
Running like clockwork,
precise and intricate,
everything in the universe is perfect.
But I don’t understand why.
I think to myself:
Why is the universe not a messy soup?
How is everything so independent physically?
The universe was once chaotic, random, and tumultuous.
But now it is neat and calm.
We live in a tranquil era of the universe
where such a world we inhabit can exist.
This entropy has served us well.
We don’t have to worry.
Everything will be alright.
Yet as I write this war and struggle encompass our earth.
People are dying in the hands of their loved ones.
Screams, tears, shots, explosions.
These frightening realities
come from a beautiful blue marble of a planet.
Life requires just right conditions
to grow and evolve.
Yet life is the sole imperfection in this universe.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
1»When a woman love you, she will do anything possible to be with you.
2»When a woman loves you, she will sacrifice her happiness to make you smile.
3»When a woman loves you, she will not delay accepting you as a lover, when she haz accepted you,she will show you care and give you attention needed in relationship or marriage.
4»When a woman loves you bro, she will do things that make your friends and you thinks she is throwing herself on you. Bro! She truly lovez you so much, don't take her love for granted.
5»When a woman loves a man, she will call the guy on phone more than the guy calls her everyday.
6»When a woman truly loves a man, she will visit you all the time, calls you, helps you,care and give you attention more than she gives herself and family.
7»When a woman loves a man, she will do what she vows not to do in this life. She will do it for you and for love but women always end up regretting for doing undo things because many men are deceivers and pretenders.
8»When a woman truly loves a man, she will turn down serious men ready to marry her whereby she is not even sure if the guy will marry her in the future. funny_people.
9»When a woman truly loves you, she gonna be romantic, care for you, respect you, encourage and support your dreams in this life, she will do anything possible to assist you achieve it.
10» When a woman truly loves you, she will surely want the best for you, she will not cheat on you or hurt you, she will let everybody know that she loves you, she will be proud of you bro , she will not find it hard to forgive your imperfection but not when you cheated, she will love you sincerely and ready to die because of your love, BRO when she truly loves you,she want nothing but marriage.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 1:03 AM UTC
Visibly wholesome with internal infractions
Humans predisposed to fatal attractions
Remain cautious & constantly selective
In a world where hearts are pure but minds are deceptive
The mind screams lust while the heart craves affection
The root of true beauty lies within imperfection
For every blossoming rose, is at least a single thorn
& every heavenly angel has a deeply hidden horn
Thus a man's flaws aren't defined as his impurities
It's the illusion of perfection that equate to his insecurities
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
Platonic Love Song
The wind in our hair as our lungs work
Screaming out the lyrics to a teenage summer
As we drive free, racing, to the waves and mountains
Lights in our eyes and hands over hearts
Youthful yearning fills us, as we get caught chasing the sky
Her laughter fills my soul and she begins to dance
While she wraps her arms around me, safe
A fire blazes, but our smiles are what light up the night
We make the stars jealous,
They beg for half of our shine
Embers and vapour fill the air,
Hands trading drinks and smoke and care
Music floats and lyrics sink in
Lips trading stories and laughter and kisses
Engines start, stop, jump, and rumble
Her eyes gleam and shift, catching attention
Hypnotising and beautiful,
They draw us in, keep us safe, and we ask to stay.
Let yourself love your friends. Let yourself stay with them.
She pumps music into our lives, her voice loud
We dance to the wild tempo of our heartbeats
Crass and catching, her voice settles in us
Let people in, even when it’s hard. Let yourself love them.
She scrunches her face up and tosses in jokes,
Making us smile at any price,
She helps us laugh the pain away.
Let people love you back.
I know it can be hard but...
She covers her smile with a hand,
Else she’d blind us, but we’d be alright,
If that could be the last thing we see
If you aren’t in love with your friends, where is your absolution?
She swings her hips and we get lost in her lips,
The gold on her skin, the brown in her eyes,
Entrancing on a new level, and we exalt
If you aren’t in love with your friends, then something is wrong.
She grabs our hands, reviving and vital,
Her shoulders jump and so do we, she’s got us on our feet
Her energy is infections, makes us forget imperfection.
If you aren’t in love with your friends, where are you spending your time?
Existing in a different state, but in the same hearts,
And we are all staring at the same jealous stars.
She feels like a home you’ve never been too.
If you aren’t in love with your friends, then you’re not doing it right.
Because for me, they define ride or die,
The first loves of my life, they mean open
Open arms, open homes, open hearts
They are coffee in the cold and make up in the night,
Empowerment in the dark and hope in the now.
Love isn’t just for spouses and partners,
Love is for those who you know with your heart,
Who’s soul touched yours, and said,
“Hey, it’s been a while. I missed you.”
And if you haven’t felt that yet then I’m sorry,
But don’t worry, you’ll find them.
And when you do, it will be like coming home.
And you’ll know.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
I'm sorry for the way that I am;
For all of my flaws, all of my insecurities.
I'm sorry for the way that I am;
The way I gravitate towards you,
the way I light up when I see you.
I'm sorry for the smile that plasters across my face
when you tell a story.
For the way I think about you always,
writing thousands of words to try to describe you.
For how I instantly miss you,
craving your voice,
craving your warmth.
I'm sorry that I constantly sing
the notes of your name.
I wish you could hear the melodies I can create.
I'm sorry for always trying to be happy,
but failing regularly.
I'm sorry for being kind,
caring too much,
and hoping for a better tomorrow.
I'm sorry for being jealous.
For all the times I was too protective,
for the times I watched you cry and didn't grab your hand;
For the long letters I've written you,
the pictures I was too shy to take,
and for losing who you used to be.
I'm sorry for not being enough for you.
For being so dark, such a tortured soul.
For the scars on my wrist,
the imperfection of my body,
the half hearted smile.
For letting myself care too much.
I'm so sorry;
So sorry, for the way that I am.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 12:29 AM UTC
To be a girl it means that you are frail, right?
That can’t possibly understand a thing
To be a girl it means you stay up day and night
Trying to get that big, shiny ring
But that’s not true, for a majority that is
We have a secret passed down from mother to daughter
The secret is that we pretend to be his
But our hearts belong to one and another
At age 6 being a girl meant you liked pink and played with dolls
But that changed
At age 8 being a girl meant you liked skirts, dresses, bows
That changed too
At age 10 being a girl meant that you were expected to have a crush & kiss him
If you didn’t, you were an outcast
At age 12 your interest in education was to diminish
By age 14 you realized that when a boy slapped your *** you enjoyed it
And if you didn’t you were a lesbian
Ages 12-18 we as girls are told to not show shoulders, knees or skin of any kind because it might distract the boys
I never heard the guys being told to dress a certain way. Have you?
No? I didn’t think so because it might ruin their ego…
Being a girl means that you are blessed with self hate
It’s automatic and hard to lose
There is always an imperfection…
Being a girl means that even when it’s hot, you wear jeans and a baggy tee
So that you don’t have to deal with wondering eyes
Being a girl means that you must look your best ALWAYS or else you’re trash
But not too good or else you’re a **** looking for a good time
Being a girl means that you grow to hate yourself so much that you can’t even look at yourself
Unless you are in public, then you have to act vain
Being a girl means that you have to listen to guys calling you fake because you hate a girl but you’re friends with her the next day
What those guys don’t know is that she saved you from a situation that could’ve made you lose what little dignity you have left
Being a girl means that when you see a grown man starring at a baby…
...you take that baby’s spot
If that means you have to be his princess, babygirl, WHATEVER, for the night
YOU DO IT.
And when you are called a ***** **** the next day, just remember that you helped that child
Being a girl means that when you’re a mother and your little girl asks you why the boys at the school rate the girls on a scale of 1-10 you have to look at her with the same look your mother gave you and tell her,
That being a girl means that you have to be smart, that you have to work 2-3 jobs just to make the same as a guy with 1 job
It’s not fair, but that is how it is.
You have to hug your baby girl when she comes home and tells you that her teacher yelled at her for wearing a tanktop or when a boy touches her even when she told him to stop
To be be a girl means that your are strong
To be a girl means that you are resilient
To be a girl means that you have a secret that is passed down from mother to daughter
And that secret is Unity
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 8:39 AM UTC
We live in a world of imperfect people
expecting to find someone perfect
It just doesn't work.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
Lord, she's so beautiful,
but she's still my friend
I've done everything I can
to keep her safe from other men
Which isn't saying much
because this girl's so smart,
but what I've tried to save
is the innocence of her heart
With every bad man in her life
I just try to remain the same
because I've worked so hard
to have such a good name
and be someone that's reliable,
someone that she can trust,
but on my side of the coin
it's more than just lust
I throw her off my scent
by mentioning other girls
Little does she know
that she encompasses my world
How can she not know
that she's what I envision
when I think of the perfect woman
and provide the description?
**** any girl alive
that doesn't think they're beautiful!
Their heads are in the clouds
and their world's in cubicles
One day very soon here
I'll help her open her eyes
and maybe she'll realize
she's known the perfect guy
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
This disease struck me
Like a brick on pavement
Hard
Everything was
Perfect
Then that brick came along
And with the slightest movement
Destroyed everything
“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
The voices say
Why can’t I let them go?
They keep repeating:
“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Why won’t they stop
“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
I don’t understand
“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Someone just HELP me understand
This disease is about
Perfection
But it's the biggest
Imperfection about me
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
to me,
love was always a mystery to me. i never truly understood what it was.
though, i like to think that i did and sadly, i thought everyone else knew what it was too but just like me, it was a mystery.
as someone who grew up without knowing what it truly meant,
i always thought it was something you can look for again after it's gone, something that will make you feel better on your bad days, something that will complete you.
i have loved so many times, or so i think i have.
but honestly, aren't we just a bunch of people throwing around the word love thinking that we know what it means? unintentionally making someone else feel special, not knowing what the consequences of using the word love really are?
now that i am older,
i think i finally understand.
that love is something no one can ever talk about without mentioning how much it actually hurts. loving someone meant truly wanting them in every way possible. most of us cannot handle how imperfect a person may be, and we will try our best to change them because "we only want the best for them." love is not finding perfection in someone's imperfection, but instead it is accepting the imperfections in someone and learning to love it as well.
i know i still can't tell you what love really means but i have found someone who helped me understand what love might be.
i loved every bit and piece of him, i loved everything about him. all his flaws, his appearance, his heart, his personality, his tantrums, the way he talks over me when he gets excited, how he tries to see eye to eye with me even when we have completely different point of views, **** i loved everything. everything that i never thought i'd like, i did anyway. i didn't only want him, i needed him. he did not complete me, but we go so well together. i never wanted to change anything about him even though i wanted to see them do better. i was willing to go through it all with him, good or bad.
is this what love really is? the fact that you know someone's bad side and you still love them anyways?
you see, no matter who i meet in my life and maybe, just maybe i might love them but i will still be able to pinpoint their flaws and maybe those are the things i won't like about them or the things i wish to change about them no matter how much i love them because i am selfish.
but with him, it's different because i loved it all. i still do. i never wish to change anything about him because that wouldn't be the person i love anymore and that's just something i can never do with anyone else, i can't love someone else like this.
he taught me how to be patient, kind and accepting.
but most importantly, he taught me how to love.
sadly, this love is only meant for him and no one else because love is not meant to be thrown around like how we did to others before we have met each other.
i guess your last lesson was teaching me that love also means wanting to see someone obtain the bigger and better things even if it means doing so without you.
i can finally say this to someone and mean it,
i will always love you, no matter what you do, where you go and who you meet in life.
thank you, my love.
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 2:05 PM UTC
Moons fall,
Eggshell snow,
Blurred illumination,
Dreary lights,
Twinkles disintegrate,
Blazed sparks fade,
Faint complexion,
Awkward tree,
Ornament shadows,
Fuses burn out,
Connection lost,
Spirit dies out,
Yuletide lie,
Imperfection.
My eyes are dark as Halloween night.
Suns shine,
White angel,
Luminous site,
Multicolored pigments,
Rosy cheeks glow,
Rays seep through,
Vivid hue,
Elegant she,
Majestic gleams,
Beams strike around,
Fascination found,
Neon dyes around,
Joyful cry,
Pulchritude.
Her eyes are bright as Christmas morning.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 3:13 AM UTC
I found you.
Different. Imperfect.
A sad and sickly child
alone in a faceless world.
Bland with naïve thoughts
and clumsy manners.
I found you.
Alike. Perfect.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 9:49 AM UTC
I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC
Poetry is a blank canvas
From the start, you'll be nervous.
Remember, it's about creativity,
And styles and individuality.
Let your inner voice paint
Try your best even if you can't.
Some will be like a blurry picture
And some will even lack structure.
Some will turn up so beautiful
And some will be very wonderful.
Just choose the right color line
And let your muse shine.
Talk to it like a pretty lady
Even if it appears ugly.
Make each and every line thine,
Make it slay beyond the borderline.
Appreciate it in the morning,
Worship it in the evening.
Do it daily or do it hourly,
Do it weekly or do it monthly.
Water it like a flower
Give your words power.
Roll it like Snoop does his joints,
And smoke it like weekend's blunts.
©IvanBrooksPoetry
23/8/2018
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 4:14 AM UTC
The mirrior is my adversary.
My eyes variance, what others don't see.
To the word I'm adequate, crowning , spotless, and skilled
Every morning I wake up, get ready and cover my lips in red majestic mac
Red lipstick seems to illuminate confidence in the eyes of many,
but to me it is merely a pigmented shield of secrets.
Humorous isn't it?
Every unmarred life, seeks to relive its pigments
Fears, self-doubt, imperfection.
Mirror, mirror, mirror on the wall..
Who's the thinnest of them all...
The sound of battle rumbles
Conscious at wrists ends
Bawling in me
Fat,
Fat,
Fat,
Yours tricks are foul, you tauntful mind
Vision is blurred from reality,
Oh mind how you love to frolic
Your sheer joys leave me unpieced,
The snickering of my mirror,
Damages my frame.
Sorrowing fades my red lipstick
Pigments revealed,
Vulnerable,
Unworthy,
Marred to the bone
Quickly I learned that the mind is the enemy, filled with con
Staring in my mirror and all I see is fat.
Red lipstick always seems to fade by the end of the night.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC