I hate being perfect

Or at least trying to be.

Perfect hurts

Worse than a brown recluse spider bite.

 

I love making mistakes

And learning from them.

Mistakes help

Better than taking cough medicine when you have a cold.

 

But of course,

I am not allowed to make mistakes.

Mistakes lead to injury,

Injury leads to death.

 

Perfection is the key to life.

I must always know when anything is less of it.

I must fix all things that are not perfect,

So I can avoid mistakes.

 

But you know what,

I am tired of being perfect.

I hate "the key to life."

 

I want to make mistakes.

And if death comes my way,

Then "Hello, how are you?"