 | PERFECTIONISM Perfectionism is a tyrant who will never be satisfied Who will never make you whole She will rob you of precious time She will tease you with false security She is a LIE She is v a p o r in your hands Lead in your feet Dilution of whimsy Ache in your bones Worry in your brow Tension in your chest Dry sweat on your neck Furrowed wrinkles replete with ill-fated exactness She will narrow your vision with laser-like precision until the only thing you see in the mirror is an impeccably-placed set of Pretty Bones Bones that click and clack The air p a s s i n g through what once was you. |
