Imperfectionist

In the mirror I see Her

the one that can never be good enough

she's tough

tired

required to be stronger

than anyone else She's ever known

(except maybe Her father) 

I tell Her

its okay to have white hairs

to be unkempt sometimes

to know you've been through hells

(both the Hot and Cold types, if you're Mahayana Buddhist, right?)

Hey, don't look so happy

or sad

or whatever you're not supposed to be

Your reaction is inappropriate

ill-timed laughter is worse 

than an outright insult

You should know

you've perfected the ravens' laughter

your crow's feet are showing

you old hag 

Don't you ever think

before you speak?

but She has thought

a little too longingly

and suppressed 

the brilliant shards of Herself

the ones that might be

a stunning mosaic

if she was brave enough

But that's a start

for Her to recognize

the disguise of perfection 

is worse than the cringes of disappointment

but that's all She's ever been

She was barely a cliff note

a life summarized by

what She was never allowed to be

A life of lessons learned the hardest way

Each mistake a reminder

That if you had only tried harder

If only you could hide Her

behind a depthless layer of masks

Each a curation more sly than the last

You'll never see Her truest form

And if you do

be warned

She's more ravenous than ever

before

She's been waiting for eyes

To see through her disguise

And unleash her unto this world

I see Her. I see me. I see You.

And slowly, we are allowing

our imperfections to be. 

Quickly we are being everything we'd ever need.

 

To speak up even if its not eloquent as fuck

To take action even if it isn't enough

To live loudly even if no one else is listening

To believe in things that no one else can perceive 

To embrace imprecision 

To imagine Her freedom 

To embody Her Holiest Imperfectionism