Confessions of imperfection

I have folded my corners and creased my pages
For those who only wrinkle my spine.
I have broken my teeth on rosaries,
Thinking only my mind could save me
However, the silence of the room
In those dark nights was a piercing sound
That reminded me of funeral bells
And I laughed at the absence of
All that was taught to me.
There have been times where I’ve jammed
Puzzle pieces in the wrong places,
Folded paper cranes to a close enough standard,
Pressed a key into a lock that fit but didn’t turn.
All for making the impression of being
A girl with her seams sewed up,
Her big picture finished and framed,
But nothing has ever fit.
The frame has always been tilted but
I would have just needed to come close.
Why, why have I never stepped a little closer?
I might have had grasped the sense
Of imperfection.
Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Confessions of imperfection

write a comment...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s