Perfection is a requirement,
yet so elusive,
valued more than gold,
prized above any other element.

Striving to be divine dying to find the imagine,
in my mind,
starving because you're not mine.

Angel bones are hiding,
need to be better,
Perfect flutters it's butterfly wings,
So much riding on,
these good tidings.

Hang on one more day,
one more inch,
clinging to the words [you say].

The words live in your eyes,
Finally I am perfect,
Finally goodbye,
Finally the you in me,
Slowly fades and dies.