perfectionist
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you demand from me
a small piece of me
each and every day.
once we were introduced,
I couldn't stop giving.
you are the center of my attention.
Perfection is a fruitless desire.
All my attempts make me tire.
Still, I have this hope:
Maybe one day, I’ll learn to cope.
This mask I wear everyday,
It is only a disgrace.
Covering who I really am,
But showing what I want people to see.
This mask is the perfectionist in me.
I am a liar and I lie to myself everyday
Wake up every morning, telling myself that it’s just another day
But I already know what kind of day it is
I’ll be just like every yesterday that I hated
I want to do it right.
See, and that's my problem right there.
Because in my desire to do life right
I become terrified of making mistakes
And turn to what the world (the general consensus) says.
I was lost in the details
And the devil was there
We spoke at length
The small talk was fair
