PERFECTION

Whether you know it or not
I'm OBSESSED.
Not with winning or boys,
but the impossible.
The extraordinary.
PERFECTION.
Something that no human being is capable of achieving...
PERFECTIONIST.
Another title to add to my resume.
Something for my parents to be proud of.
For them to say I'm actually SOMEBODY in this world.
For SOMEONE to look up to me and say I'm their role MODEL.
But what if I do get that title?
Will it COMPLETE me?
Will I be NOTICED?
No.
Because, if you haven't taken a stroll lately,
There're critics on every corner, scroll, and click of a button.
"You're too FAT!"
"You're too SKINNY!"
Well, people are going to be hypocrites right?
But it seems to stop me as I become more SELF-CONSCIOUS
about myself.
PERFECTIONIST.
I'll do it to change the pigment of my skin
so an eight-year old me doesn't get call
ZEBRA,
NIGGER,
or YIN YANG.
Words that never left my memory for nearly a decade.
And the ones too graphic for me to tell.
It sounds like the classic sob story,
I know,
But EVERYONE has one to tell.
About the time their dad walked out on them.
Or their ABUSIVE boyfriend.
Their SUICIDAL best friend whom now lays six feet under.
Or how the mum has to work paycheck to bloody paycheck
to keep up with the rent.
But if I do SUCCEED in being PERFECT,
what then?
What else could I possible do?
I will always be REMEMBERED as the girl
OBSESSED with PERFECTION.
Who was the TRY-HARD.
I could've asked for the moon
Or the stars.
But stupid little me...
I asked for
PERFECTION.