To Be Perfect

The driving force inside me,
The reasoning behind my actions,
Why I live and breathe,
Everything I do,
Is guided by my desire to be perfect.

Each bite of food I take,
Each heavy-hearted mouthful,
That I reluctantly swallow,
Makes me want to cry,
Makes me want to die,
Because I'm not yet perfect.

When I speak, I need to hear my words,
Coming from another mouth,
To see how they sound.
I need to be worldly,
Instead of just me- imperfect.

The scars,
They sing a hundred songs,
And tell a thousand stories,
But they are proof,
That I am not flawless.

And when I hurt myself,
For not being perfect,
The scars and memories I'm left with,
Prevent me from ever being,

I cannot be me,
I cannot live this life,
In denial of who I am.

Anything but perfect.