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"perfectionists" poems
I watch my reflection in the mirror with my pale blue eyes watching my lifeless stature in the dark bones made out of gelatin and my heart out of fragile glass that breaks everytime i see myself My fingertops softly touch my face Tears keep coming faster till my waterlines are overflowing My nails grow sharper and my fingers cramp digging holes under my eyes I want to shatter my bones And burn my skin to ashes I want to rip the hair from my scalp as well as all the pages filled with frustration scratching and screaming I have to be pretty but the need for it grows as well as the demons inside my soul
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Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
The Frustration of Perfectionists
Over-run by Christian perfectionists, all I can think of is *** Someone please save me from myself, save me from this hell, Let me be different or chop them off, I won't be needing them, I'll just make them go away and disappear, I'll need a knife as well. My short and useless life will be over soon anyway, I was certainly given enough guilt I can not hide, No one will want to be my friend, not day to day, Not if I'm the one that's got to be the eccentric "lie." In the end the rest of us are stuck in this abyss, The one where it's an evil thought to let nature grow, Allow her to flourish (and why should we let her live?) To be the one to sew the seeds, but we will never know. It's a tricky path I'd rather have never been put on, When I was a kid I thought everything was fine, Then I grew up and found out I was different, My train is on the tracks, I'll never make it on time. And so I ask the world to answer, everyone just laughs, They tell me I'm going to need to move out of the country, I'd give anything to leave, but there's no clear set path, Maybe I should have been born into a different family? So my friends wish me well, my unborn children already dead, I don't want to be this way, carry on and sewn shut in tears of red, I'll be back again to ask for help and they will all just cringe, I guess they've made certain that I shall be the "embodiment of sin."
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Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
Sewn Shut-Isolation
We are the race that preferred to let the thoughts of perfectionists lead them to think of their unique bodies and features as mediocre. We've chosen to get rid of our individual smells, to be showered by the chemical spells. We could've bathed in nature, yet we chose to be separated from nature. We look upon ourselves in disgust, and condemned ourselves to insecurity and distress. We chose to break into packs led by the wretched, and driven unto distortion. We've governed the Deities' commandments and set them on demand. We've disfigured the beauty of love, passion, intimacy and beauty itself. We've exploited our home, selves, beings and life!
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
Us, the humans
What have I done? what's happening to me? Am I diseased with the sickness that's infiltrating the whole nation A nation of pill popping zombies that has addicted itself to the loophole of "a pill for happiness" "a pill for desensitization" "a pill for nerves" "a pill for life"? Why have we become a generation of junkies whose drug is legal inflicted on us but degree holding powers because "they know better"? Is it normal for humans like me and you who feel who see who taste who hear who smell to be controlled by a singular button to be confined to a manifesto of the "latest trend" Are we all hypnotized into morphing into the "perfect body" "10 ways to get smarter" "look like this, don't eat" is it a blueprint set by a superpower to transform us to identical robots to make it easier to control us? Are we slowly walking down the path of being identical? Are we losing the only essence of what makes us human? Are removing our imperfections and surgically implanting "my lips should be like this" "my thigh gap is a must" "my brain should have a set of guidelines" What has become of us? I pity the fish that flow with the current I cry over the youth today I mourn the artists of yesteryears I grieve with the widowers of lost souls There's still hope or so I try to believe and encourage the dying breed of perfectionists the humble ones those whose kisses only land on lips and not *****
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Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 6:57 AM UTC
My Eulogy
The distance never seemed so great Cataclysm perfectionists Yet, I am not your humpy dumpy, Or your fine china ware Bare knuckles drip sweat with anxiety I know she wants a reaction A pulse burst neuron pattern She wants emotion...my fear...my jealousy A hulk-like idiocy irrationally irrationalness Anger does not suit dragons...it is messy When wisdom is much more vicious Sound becomes tines of liquid silver endings Forcing once passionate melodic tones Into baritone thunder claps of aggression But strangely...the animals do not run As patients is a commandeering trait But the distance g r o w s greater..
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Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
Grows Greater...
I don't know who the next me will be, what skin she'll be wearing, whether she will learn to surf the waves and not just dip her feet in them. Will this be the year she finally looks anxiety in the eye and says "You will not stop me?" Will it be the year she finally looks suicide in the eye and says "You will not take me?" My youth and her youth is slipping away behind signatures and steering wheels, behind money and percentages, but these don't define her or me... If she'll believe in herself, throw herself into life's ride and breathe, then she will be okay, but if she is the harshest critic, the most high of all perfectionists, she might struggle. I want to tell her that breathing is the most beautiful thing she could specialize in during her beautiful existence, I want to tell her to not be terrified of the night, and whatever lurks behind her eyelids, It's just a dream girl, nothing more. I want to tell her imperfection is beautiful, I want to tell her to commit so her life can be wonderful, I want to tell her she wasn't raised to howl over anyone, I want to tell her: let them love you, and let them leave you, Let them hold you but don't ever let them break you.
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Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 6:02 AM UTC
On The Verge Of 17
The perfection clause doesn’t apply, Yet we struggle to be flawless. Society demands perfectionism, But the perfect human ceases to exist. We are all sinners in an imperfect world, In a universe that is filled with faults. Immorality is part of the individual, A mind which consists of defects. Misdeeds will prevail in this life, As wrong acts continues to thrive. The soul can live based on virtue, Following a path where dignity rules. Even though we can’t be perfectionists, Striving to be finest person is enough.
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Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 8:15 AM UTC
The Tendency to Sin
They said it was A PUSH I said this **** is APES Bananas Do they know what this system does? It's all just stress So they can assess What you've learned Meanwhile, they've only turned A generation into stressed out perfectionists Or students dropped out, burned out So many notes, assignments, & essays to write It's all lead to carpal tunnel in the wrist Why does this system exist? Instead make students hunger for knowledge Instead of stressing out about college Somewhere over the hedge The rainbow Where the grass is greener I picture students happier and keener With the love of learning being what we live for.
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Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 5:38 AM UTC
Always Pressuring
Torn in half and cut in two Searching or lost Depends on point of view Needing to be complete We search on Fight and compete No wonder so many combinations don’t fit For lovers and perfectionists Too much choice to claim that that one is 'it'
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Jun 6, 2011
Jun 6, 2011 at 4:07 PM UTC
Torn in half/Cut in two
Sashes on the pavement, lovers in a ditch singing their own love songs in the highest pitch, the Heartbreak City banks, full of disgusting ****** and tramps - welcome to your new Empire of dust, forever lit beneath low phosphour lamps strutting down those streets with your hands on your hips filthy smile smeared over those tempestuous lips, stinking of the latest high maintenance fragrance the ****** arrogance that flips and fits the hottest ***** I've ever seen from a nobody to the penultimate Killer Queen, champagne, diamonds, expensive tastes, spending money on luxuries and other waste oh I love your exotic ideas, your shattering impatient thoughts spreading the *** craze that warps and distorts, your people slumber in poverty, weep at your knees instead of mercy you gift them with drug addiction and disease children crying upon high streets lawyers demanding prostitutes for tax receipts - oh here they come - the worst is un-seen oh here they come - both unjust and un-clean the beautiful people are mannequins and they hide in shadows birthed from ****** within Satan's abysmal gallows clicking fingernails rotted and curled whispering everything makes sense in a senseless world - this perfection is not what it used to be your quest is useless, for can't you see - the beautiful people are plague, and they hide behind trees and sooner or later they'll catch you, steal and contort your dreams.
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Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC
The Perfectionists
I won attention Not by my family, but by friends I chose words carefully So as not to hurt others I arranged them neatly To please perfectionists I sang low So as not to disturb a sleeping bird Sang high When I was alone and no one could hear I gave my heart to many But never received one
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Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
Inner Monologue, Part Two
You know how easy it is To point a mistake of others And how hard it is to point Our own mistakes We feel like perfectionists And we treat our deeds as right Everytime This is how we do commit mistakes We need to introspect And act wisely
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Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
832. Mistakes
I want to improve I wish I was better please, someone, help me understand my pain and suffering please send a doctor I am from perfectionists but they haven't fixed me and I'm sad that I'm not ok and it's not ok that I'm sad I just want to feel something when I can only feel nothing why does Salem haunt me why do witches follow me and ghosts love me I just want to feel safe I just want to feel perfect
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May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 4:18 PM UTC
Confessions
We are perfectionists content with one-another's imperfections, and I am thankful.
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Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 3:22 AM UTC
Christopher.
have found a polite way to I have found a polite way to say I love you even if I don't really mean it I have found a polite way to tell you to **** off when you constantly bug me at my place of work, and that is treat him like an employee and then sack him, that'll work I have found a polite way to tell someone that their weird without making them get upset I have found a polite way to say to a right wing party that their policies stink by saying, you guys are a bunch of total perfectionists, who care nothing for the little guys I have found a polite way to tell someone that they aren't the right sort of friend for me by saying, please mate, I need to broaden my horizons, so can you leave my perfect world buddy I have found a polite way to tell my boss that I am resigning and that is I really don't want this place of employment, it's not really my cup of tea I have found a polite way tell someone in a bar to stop bugging me by asking them nicely to please leave me alone and if that doesn't work then leave the bar saying if people aren't going to be nice to me here, I ain't going to come here I have found a polite way to call someone a young bludger by telling them that they are as lazy as you were when you were their age I find polite ways to say anything because I value my Life too much to be hurt people's feelings, I am really cool, man
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 3:33 AM UTC
I HAVE FOUND A POLITE WAY TO ENJOY EVERY ASPECT OF MY LIFE
I had never met my grandfather Because he died of a heart attack And my father got heart medication from the drive-through pharmacy While I watched calmly from the back And at the doctor some years ago They told me there was some foods I'd have to cut back They both were perfectionists So with my self-made stress, how can I bounce back? I'll go my whole life achieving my dreams Without once looking back So don't compare me to them, no matter how similar we look Don't curse me with a heart attack.
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Sep 29, 2024
Sep 29, 2024 at 12:21 PM UTC
A Recurring Flashback
To see myself through anothers eyes anothers diary entries about me to hear that someone loves me deeply but to feel so god **** alone in every sense of the ******* word all i want is to be wanted to look in the mirror and see a lump of clay fat thick and moldable but never quite fitting the way you want it when i want to see a marble slab perfect and smooth rolled under a perfectionists chisel all i want is to be a first choice
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Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
Am I Alive?
Crisp snowflakes on the windowpane Kisses of the winters fall Solid mirrors prove I'm not sane until they are solidly gone Cracks in the wood are a perfectionists pain Not drying the wood So the creation breaks in time Soft like a rock against a train tears will never truly stain Just like how a poets death must never make sense towards a true rhyme
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 8:57 AM UTC
Untitled
The perfection clause doesn’t apply, Yet we struggle to be flawless. Society demands perfectionism, But the perfect human ceases to exist. We are all sinners in an imperfect world, In a universe that is filled with faults. Immorality is part of the individual, A mind which consists of defects. Misdeeds will prevail in this life, As wrong acts continues to thrive. The soul can live based on virtue, Following a path where dignity rules. Even though we can’t be perfectionists, Striving to be finest person is enough.
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Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
The Tendency to Sin
Honestly, if we think about the answer to this question. We then would have to admit truth. Who wants a perfect love? Where no mistakes are allowed to be made? Where making up is eliminated? Because we so determine not to make them. It's like a smile without a frown. Where constantly we trying to fool those around us? Who wants a perfect love? Where you always measured under a microscope? Only to have others reminding us of our imperfect errors. Oh, those perfectionists doesn't see the truth. For if they did, they wouldn't trying to present themselves so much better.
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Who Wants A Perfect Love?
This woman is messing with my mental health. She makes me so anxious that my stomach is in knots. She is very aggressive and rude. Lady I am trying to help you. Perfectionism is encouraged but unrealistic. We all have flaws and I am doing my best. You were amazing to me at one point but now all I see is what an attitude problem you have. I see all your BS .
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Oct 23, 2024
Oct 23, 2024 at 2:59 PM UTC
perfectionists
I tried to encase the demons within me But they escaped and fed on me Slowly and consequently controlled me and my actions Oh God i shunned and acted astray I did the unutterable and made quite a few mistakes But it was not me It was because of society that led me to commit such acts and awoke my demons I was trapped amongst perfectionists and flamboyant people I was so carried away by what others did, had i known earlier of the consequences, i would never have erred Expectations and manipulation provoked me I became so weak that i forgot what it means to be free I tried to encase the demons within me But they escaped and fed on me.
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Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
Untitled