I heard this myth


I heard this myth called perfection

She says she’s real but I know that she cannot be

Sometimes I pretend she is though

She says I have to

I have these cuts for thinking she’s a myth

That’s what she does

How she preys

Its on people like me

She kills in different ways

But kills all the same

The first time she caugh my attention

She starved me from the inside out

She stole my happiness

My life

The people who loved me

And she made me pay

She stole from me and made me pay

The second time she caught my attention

She used her nails

To cut these bloody gashed into me

Lines and lines of budding red clusters

A bible inscribed in pain

She leaves them I the most hidden places

Because, she says no one can know about her

She says if they do, she will have to leave me

I don’t want her to leave now

Now I love her

The third time she caught my attention

She made me un

Sometimes she’d chase me for hours

The lines on my skin became just as numerous

On my bones

And from these fissures

Came pain

But she kept chasing

And she always caught me

I cannot out-run her

I cannot out-starve her

I cannot out-cut her

You see, I heard about this myth called perfection

And the bones and scars remind me everyday

That she’s real.








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