perfect

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perfect does exist but only in pockets of time
Why is it we feel the need to write about love? Myself especially. Look around you at the world. Look at the pain. Look at the suffering. Look in the places you never thought to look,
The definition of perfect is someone or something that is excellent, correct, and flawless. Having all the required elements, qualities, or characteristics.
Those words, The ones that tear you apart piece by piece. The little words.
I used to think no one was perfect. The idea of perfect being so distant from reality. Like the stars shining in the sky that continued on indefinitely, his love for me is shocking.
You are perfect.  That’s it.  I said it.  Perfect.
Why would I want to live in a perfect world? If everything were perfect, Then nothing would be different. Everything would be exactly the same.
For what’s darkness, But a contrast to light? The only reason light can exist Is because there is darkness for it to illuminate. Light heals,
She was drawing with her Reeves HB sketch pencil in her 2010 Strathmore sketchbook that her grandparents had given her last Christmas. She had drawn his eyes with great precision, and the bump on his nose bent just right, his lips were textured as
Having a broken heart makes it so hard to breathe I begged you to stay, but I ended up having to watch you leave Best friends? Best friends till the end? I guess with time my broken heart will mend
There is a reflection looking back at her in the mirror,what she see's isn't really how she is supposed to appear.Perfectly imperfect from ear to ear,every single line and wrinkle tells a story some with tears.
“Don’t talk to me in that tone!” Yes, mother, I apologize for my insolent self.  
This is NOT me! This is NOT who I am! This is NOT who I want to be!  
This is for the girls who believe the number on the scale, determines whether they are beautiful or not. This is for the men who don’t fit in the role of “tough man,” that media portrays them to be.
When I first met you, I thought you were a clever man and I respected you. When I first talked to you, I thought you were a brilliant man and was intrigued by you. 
Do you really know yourself Do you accept yourself for who you really are
  February 2, 2017   Dear Person Whose Life I Tried to Make Perfect,
You say that I'm not good enough because I don't wear my hair in perfect curls  You say I'm not good enough because I don't wear pretty lipstick and faulse lashes You say I'm not good enough
  I. The universe existed for more than billions of years. Planets came and left. Stars burst and lived.
Dear... Whatever Her Name Ends Up Being, I know you love National Parks.  You love at least one sport, deeply.  You love breakfast food. You love your job.  You love dogs or cats. 
it is easy to love you in the fantasy i’ve formed in my mind, for under the protection of my imagination, we are together. we are perfect. we are infinite.
Merry Christmas my sweet. I’ve written you a few poems, but the list will grow, for how can one not share this intense sensation burning inside when it’s brighter than anything else?
You know what I see? I can see a beautiful, invincible, perfect, radiant, sweet princess. Why can’t you see? It’s right there, quite plainly. You just need to open your eyes.
I’m so glad I found you Do you know why we found each other? It was destiny Long ago When we were still stars We touched Gently and lovingly And we were separated
when death lies on your bed next to you,
Girls are meant to be the assistant in a magic show Better seen not heard We should appear and disappear like the bunny out of your hat or the dove from your cloak. We have to change into whatever you want...
I love you I daresay, the way you hold me, the way your heart touches mine and beats in tandem, a feeling that we're tied together belong together,   I don't hurt you,
Because I love you I know you’re not perfect                   But I love you regardless   Nothing is perfect not you, not me, not our relationship
Because I love you…. I will allow you into my heart, I will share my secrets with you, Because I know they are safe with you. I will cry in front of you.. And with you..
having an eating disorder means wanting everyone to know and no one to ask it means accidentally leaving your lunch at home and proudly telling friends no thanks when they offer to share 
What perfect means to me Is no perfection at all. It means that you are clumsy, You are loud, You are quiet, You are graceful. It means that you are awkward, You are simple,
imperfection is a pimple. an irregularity, red and raised in the middle of your face when you are 11 to you it is unfamiliar so you buy concealer
wouldn't it be perfect, if eveyone danced as society told them, because there is no room for free will, because there is no room for a creative spirit, there is no room to be your own person,
I don't care if you are depressed. I will try to cheer you up. I don't care if you are mad. I will try to make you laugh. I don't care if you are ignoring me.
Evertime I see your face, a very powerful emotion is stirred up. It overpowers my anxiety, my grief, my sadness, and tells me 'just keep trying' I don't know what you see when you look in the mirror,
If you had asked me a year ago A simple question, nothing out of the ordinary I would have had to say “Fine. I’m fine. I’ll be fine, just give me some time.”  
The picture on my wall happily reminds me that there are better places on Earth than the world, that there is more to life; living,
At first I thought you were diamond embedded And then I saw how imperfectly you were created You willow crying like you lost perfection And some of us see your little perfect complexions
I used to say that "love" was not a strong enough word to describe my feelings but that it would do for now. I could go through the dictionary and look up a hundred synonyms to describe the feeling when I looked at him. Adore
I know a girl with 'perfect' written on her wrist, and I think it’s funny because it isn’t perfect at all. When I say perfect, I mean it literally -
all these colors rushing up to greet me all these ups and downs adrenaline running all these beautiful voices surround me exceat for one thats in my head that's in my heart
They say “you’re too young.”  How do they know? They can’t see what’s in our heads; they can’t understand what we feel. It’s all cliché, it’s all true. I know the difference between a want and a need.
Let me tell you a story, Fantastic as can be, It's about a perfect man, He who died on a tree. It was not a hanging, that's far from true, It's called a crucifixion, and He died for me and you.
I never would have noticed the Abscess on my elbow If they had not pointed it out   I strained to see it Red flushing my skin Darker than leather   O, you’re right
A perfect family But only to the eye When you come into their lives That perfect family has very dark lies But o'no one pays close attention
Some may say, 'roses are red, and violets are blue and darling I love you'   Others might say 'my love for you is bulletproof'.
No filter No control. I don't choose to look like I do. With dead eyes. And an empty smile. No filter No control. I did not ask for this. My frame too large for photo encasing.
Flash! Smile! Turn! Stop! Lighter! Darker! Thinner! Smaller! Stronger! Weaker! Meeker! Flash! Smile! Stop! Tighter! Shorter!
What color is perfection? That elusive transcendence from reality That which demands unnecessary change I see you, and you are transparent.   I am flesh and bone I bleed when I am cut open
I'm not afraid of my shadow, Or the satin woven black Of the night sky, Words it lack. I'm a heavy breather, Fantasiser, I believe In the Northern light. But strap my arms Behind my back
Who am I? I am the seconds in between breaths where the thoughts creep in I am the smile in the sunshine with the windows down in my jeep
He's not tall, dark and handsome Or a muscular jock Not a hopeless romantic Or a sex-driven shmuck He's not perfect He gets angry He has scars But he's still perfect to me.  
I've made mistakes, But they don't define me.   I have regrets, But I am not what I've done.   I have secrets, But they're part of my past.   Come dawn, And come day.
  It’s tough when you’re forced to grow up in a world Where Barbies are standards for each little girl I’ve had too many friends feel they’re less than they are
Maybe if I dye my hair or straighten my teeth, I'll look just like the glamour girls you see on t.v. Wonder if that'll catch his eyes.   But really I'm just fine being me. No need to worry, I'm always happy.
On the other side of the glass
I may not be what you envisioned That perfect porcelian doll. It wasn't my decision
I see those around me
I am not a perfect angel
A pearl, Dipped in love and frosted with perfection,
Dear Future Self,   You did it.   Living with no limits. Losing yourself in your passion. Rising up and growing into the best you could be. Your world was waiting for you.  
Flawless? I wouldn't think so.
Looking through the filter I am perfect. The truth about my life is nonexistent. Looking through the filter. all the words I say are pure, With no stammer or lisp. Looking through the filter.
For those who cannot see The beauty behind every being Each flaw that makes up a subject  Are the characteristics that make you perfect. 
Baggy tees No Pants Nagging people don't exist.  Messy hair No makeup
We have all been there: The awkward stage. We all can relate To those uncomfortable times.   When all the girls had Frizzy uneven hair And boys had scrawny Arms and glasses.  
I am perfect—without flaw. Which is to say, not a single trait I retain is held in low regard. Not one thing of my person can be looked down upon, for I am flawless.
There was a face A face I analyzed like a dissection  Blemished with scars and beauty marks Stained with exhaustion and fear Consumed by society’s ideals A face that did not realize what it was worth
Thoughts of nothing In times of despair I see you strutting Like you don't see me here I wished to fly like a choir on high To live like a new being awoken To be sheet thin and soar the sky
Perfect. That is such an impossible word. As if every
Who am I and who will I become,  to fall far from the family tree or be the last one?  Who will accept my failures and love my flaws? Everyone loves a girl who is always less flawed. 
I'm not like the other girls, I don't cake on makeup,  I don't wear dresses and skirts, I don't need to. 
Flawless: Adjective,    Definition: Perfect   I am flawless, flawless like a diamond. I am the Diamond.   A diamond? yes. a diamond.   
Who is flawless ? I know that I am not. Nor do I claim that I am I am full of flaw as are you.
Rainbow colored weave  Down below your knees Dazziling fingernais Brighter than the sun Lips so glossy As if you applied the whole tube Makeup So thick
We appear as our best We try to out do the rest
Fabulous Ha! I love that word Eight letters, three snaps Fa-bu-lous
Pretty face, long hair. Skinny waist, the clothes I wear. Everything must be Perfect. Flawless.   The way I walk, the way I drink. The way I talk, the way I think.
Drifted from my primordial perfection,       To the hapless ghetto, of,             Egos sniffing new directions, devoid of contentment,      or anything truly taste-able.  
To be honest Physically, I am not in any way lacking flaws. I have hair in places I don't think it belongs, I have fat stick out where I'd rather it not.
I am who I am because I chose to be that way. I am strong, becasue of the pain I have endured. I am beautiful, because I have taught myself to radiate my happiness. 
Prude. Censuring. Perfect little girl. Am I a prude when I dislike foul words? And promiscuity is not something I adore: But how can I be perfect if you claim that I’m a churl?  
My face is not my canvas I can contour I can paint I can outline I can manipulate I Cannot tell a story I Cannot move others emotionally I Cannot be studied   My real canvas
I am perfect beyond imperfection Nothing can comprehend this lesson That the rise and fall of every good king
I am flawless because I'm flawed, The imperfections make me perfect, I'm flawless because I'm 6 foot 5, I have to duck in the shower, And check the pool's depth before I dive,
What do you see when you look in the mirror? Yourself. You need to be Flawless, everyone knows it. You can be beautiful, Glitter with excellence. You can shine, But only if you want to.
Beauty is in the Eyes of Society Growing up, I was never skinny; my skin was dark and all I wanted was to be pretty. I was 10; looking at magazines, seeing all of the skinny girls
P
Preambles of perfection;
Who am I? I am myself. While filters do not lie, They definitely enhance The minor imperfections that only I can see. Without filters, My zit is apparent,
I'm perfectly and wonderfully made  
They see my faults; I see only beauty.
God is the maker of all        mankindHes so flawless he will blow     your mindI wanna be a member of    his     teamTrying to live holy with
Our sense of self... is like a thin thread and, all that is above and below, it in space and time. A life Given to us by something Divine, created everything in and out of sight and mind, and is only associated with things perfect.
"You are beautiful in each way that I can
Flawless is flawmore  because flaws are what make us human I am not a perfect person its an insult to say i am id be fuming' It would suck to find out I was Because flaws make life fun
Looking into the mirror, Wiping away the tears. A new day is ahead And a new face appears. No one can see past The cover that is shown, But nobody really understands What is called the unknown.
I think I am beautiful, In a different sort of way. I always keep them laughing, And they just want me to stay. My face is something of my own, One alike you'll never see.
Sun shining bright through the window's ruby curtains, She got up. Hair in disarray, Face a mess with squinted brown eyes, She was bare, untouched, raw  
My lips are chapped and peeling and blistered and red and sore and raw but soft and plump and full and pink and curvy and luscious and perfect
They say there's no such thing as perfect But I happen to know that talk is cheap Flawless is the best thing to be To be who I am I must accept who I am Flawless is just an act that lays beneath
To learn how the world works
Society trying to mislead me Make me something I’m not Or are they Trying to rip The veil In front of my blind eyes To reveal What I have yet To see
Sitting, watching, model like girls, Strut in front of me with tight bouncy curls. Perfect legs and tiny waists, Seamlessly flawless face.   I can't help, but judge myself,
I woke up Perfect. I went to bed Perfect. What is perfetion to me? I believe it is being able to express myself, freely.  I can come around people without makeup on my face, 
 
I still belive that I can fly. Secretly I have wings, that strech aross the sky. Sometimes I pay too much attention to these things.   I still think that to be "flawless."
Like olive oil, The first press is the best. It is pure, unrefined. It is the true essence of the olive.   Like chicken, The more you process it, The worse it gets.
Smile, Wave hello, Be friendly, Be bold, Be perfect. They expect that from you, So you give it to them.   “What’s wrong?” They ask, if you only slightly frown.
Life has its ups and downs as you know Things can make me sad and they can make me happy Yet I want to be uplifted. Perfect euphoria is within my reach when: I stand in the clearing of a snow-cloaked forest
One simple day
You
You look in the mirror and you see A human being, to you, that's just not meant to be A person who will never be But it's all a lie But you don't see Because you're trapped In darkness
I'm the closest thing to perfect Because you're perfect and you're the closest thing to me. I could say you're like a rose or compare you to a summer's day. But roses wilt and summer days end.
When life begins  And we start to look for who we are in the world we create ourselves this distorted image of perfection that society created for us   
I walk along a field of grey
  I sit on a crooked tree branch Leaning against it As I stare out into the distance Mountains tower above Darkened shadows with white tips Shrouded in pale mystery Meadows crowd the land below
Paradise sits on the mountainside Towering buildings of all size Where the water rolls and glides Up on this city of mine   Towering buildings of all size
Of all the things I hate and loathe, The word Perfect I hate the most. Of all the ways to tell a tale, Perfect is the best disguise. I can handle Smart, I can brush off Beautiful, Talented and Funny,
Perfect hair and perfect skin
Some say that bitterness is what broke you, and ripped your seams apart. But whatever it was that consumed you, longing is what lies inside your heart. A longing to be better, is the single thread that binds you.
Wrap your arms around me, Squeeze me oh so tight. Make me feel safe. Even when it’s not.   Never knowing right from wrong, Silly jokes told on midnight strolls. This is true love told.  
This is my apology to society Why am I apologizing?because society is not proud of me I'm sorry for not having porcelain skin and long straight hair I'm sorry about all the size two clothing I am not able to wear
No one ever says the truth
I am the cul-de-sac and the grass on the other side,
Skinny legs, a perfect hair is what they to see A pretty face and perfect body, The opposite of me. The pressure to be perfect is slowly closing in.  When, when will all of this come to an end?
  I've lived a life that's safe. Free of rejection, and what come's with it...
When I look at their faces, Drenched in perfection, When I flip the pages, I look into their eyes, like they're masked in disguise, they look so ideal, This cannot be real,
I drift in and out of sadness Explode with manic madnessI can't control your loveOr make you wish you had this But it's sad - thisBottomless hungerHeart -  banging like thunderSitting up at night 
Your name is finer than the sweetest honey when passing my lips  At the most random times you blossom into my mind I allow myself to pleasure to think of your name My breath is taken for me and my head goes dizzy
stragley hair that won't straigten  freckles that makeup can't cover up chapped lips  "oops I broke a nail" uneven toes too small of eyes stubby fingers "I'm not skinny enough"
There was a sad story, well it was more horrible than any. A story of a woman, a young woman at that... A woman  who spoke kind words, and never felt or suffered hurt.
A word full of hapiness and sorrow, Everyone has gotten abused by it it, Everyone has been confused it, But everyone is still determined to be Perfect.   A 3.9 GPA
I envy the people beside me. They have the newest, the latest, the flashiest, I have the cheapest I could find
If someone ever comes to up me With a bag of Skittles and candy in their mouth, With the lame pick-up line:
These delicate lumps of of tendons, muscle, bone Carry on for mile, miles all alone. As their master's eyes close To escape from it's woes, These small little toes will keep fluttering along.  
you ask me why im crying i say it tears of joy,  what is that  you ask, something you cant ignore. something like the rain when the sun is out,
Stretched into a pirouette Porcelain arms above her head Pristine balance and tight bunned hair A trickle of salt water dread The lace toe shoe grips the edge Atop the orange lip of God Sprawling below is dark abyss She could fall with just a prod
Everyone has flaws that are hard to see passed. But everyone has flaws that are perfect to your perfect match. Your flaws are perfect for a heart that is meant to love you,  for who you are. 
They tell us the truth will set you free, So you should hear the truth from me, That student sitting in the first row, Who always seems to look and know, So brace yourself, Get ready dear,
But before AP Bio,   oops, Another Science Class, you go to AP Economics, which you call 9/11.   You call it 9/11 because for a week and a half, your teacher only lectured
Your class is pretty big, about twenty-something people. It doesn’t sound very big, but most of the seats are filled. You sit behind a guy who won’t shut up. You sit next to a girl,
So you sit down at your desk,   and listen to their breath. You watch as they all talk, argue, and laugh. There’s a teacher at the front, trying to speak. She gets a few words in,
Have you ever thought about it?   Do you want to?                         Have you tried it?
Inside, they consume me the words of society filled with rejection   My heart aches and throbs  as I'm wrapped in the image of pure pefection   Yet I can not grasp
NOTHING will ever be good enough.   Teachers compliment me on things I've written, telling me that the power of my words
Sometimes  I think it'd be easier if you had died Not because I want you dead, Not because I hate you, But because then maybe I'd have a reason. I'd have a reason to avoid everyone you ever spoke to
When God came into the world, He already had everything planned out. Even if he didn’t, he sure as well went out with a bang. Now when he brought me in, I wish he wrote out a manual or a pamphlet
Our silent conversations have been louder than our screaming matches. The most intimate moments have been cold, whereas our distanced and indifferent attitudes have struck a fire so great within us,
Her eyes were just so alive and bright Instantly I knew this hug was genuine and right She ran and jumped up into my arms I could never cause that pretty girl no harms   She yelled and called out uncle hay
Every guy has a picture in mind. Of the perfect girl they'll have but she has to be fine. Outline; to cross the line between penny or dime. Why you gotta think like this most or all of the time?
My favorite time of the year, Is all filled with cheer.   The beach, the sun, It’s all so fun.   The summertime breeze, Needs to come sooner please.   Splashing in the waves,
That’s not quite right.Just a minute too slow.That’s what they tell her,As if she doesn’t already know.
 I ever felt the wind blowing on my faceThat moment we walked along the beach.I remember that timeThat moment you confessed everything.I admit that I will never forgetThat moment when you hold my hand. I will surely miss you babyI will surely dyin
If the world is listening, Let them hear this; My life is not perfect, My life is not bliss. I'm happy almost never. The sadness always stays. I'm always the one who's wrong. I'm always the one who's to blame.
People who are of a higher class than a person such as me Shouldn't treat us like what we walk on... They don't see that we;re all equal and not at all perfect. They bully and tease us from how we look to what we do.
Oh what shadows I carry and bring with me; We dance all night and sing in perfect harmony, Oh so joyous and free. Together we live so happily, because they're just like me.
He's worried that she might not smile everyday He's worried he'll miss her too much when he goes away He's worried that she won't laugh at his dumb joke He's so worried so much....dam he might choke
You lie on top of me, Chest to chest, heart to heart. We don’t make love, we don’t fuck, We just lie there. Your body language so intriguing, so fascinating,
36-24-36 Perfect.
(poems go here) Ode to happiness and the high it gives you. Suppressing the stress you could no longer bare. Cleaning you up until you’re “as good as new”. It’s like inhaling a breath of the sweet spring air.
There for me always Wipes my tears Sits through my struggles even though she don't have too My Perfect Girl the Center of MY WORLD Gone forever Heaven stole my perfect girl It stole my heart too...
When I first danced I was an elephant Heavy and stomping and swaying my heavy tusks, The Duck would tell me "No No No! Don't stomp step lightly" and so thus I became a gorilla.
Yesterday finding a suitor seemed doubtful even though millions of fish live in the sea. No one could spark my life, it continued to remain dull. Just as I began to lose hope, you found me.
I'm not perfect, I'm not all I wanted to be But I am me, The best me that I can be I'm no superstar, I'm no model But I am me, The best me that I can be
All the talent in the world won’t save you if you are ugly! You try to have confidence But the moment you stand, you are beaten! You aren’t loved! You aren’t worthy!
(poems go here)
Why should beauty be hidden under the surface? Why doesn't society let it rise to the top? It refuses to show all its people that It's there, but it's there, and won't stop
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