Perfection...
In a funk
But I don’t give a fuck
And I don’t give a what
The fuck are you talking about
This time. The broken record.
The choices I make are for protection.
My naiveté shows me the wrong direction.
And I’m hurt.
I’m angry.
I’m pissed and you can’t measure
You busy worrying about pleasure
The gift I give. No pressure.
Personal goals that I continuously fold on
The stress from her
For them
From it
From me
From him
Unnecessary because he lets me know daily that
He don’t care that much.
Whose glasses are rosier?
Whose glass is overflowing?
I’m half full. Realistically in us.
The others a bust in my mind, b.s.
There is no unless. No options to fail.
Perfectionist in a chubby body.
Perfectionist unemployed.
Perfectionist pressured.
Perfectionist changing without trying
And growing sans the lying
And still not being believed by the mass that is he
That’s all that matters in the perfectionist that is me.
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