The Flaw In Flawlessness
For what great fault does your beauty mask?
Could it kill, maybe maim?
Could it turn me to glass
And smash what's left?
If I asked,
Would you tell me?
Or should I simply believe what my mother’s foretelling?
She says, “Beauty is fun till you run and you fall,
And those with the beauty have the most flaws of all.”
And I trust her.
This is all I can muster.
‘Cause I’m flustered by what you’re saying and not saying
And games I don’t want to be playing.
And that’s why I’m here.
To get some finality.
Find a real someone that can bring my reality
Right back to my dreams
With no in-betweens
Or and’s or but’s about it.
‘Cause without it,
I’m really just finding myself a little more clouded
And, overall, lost.
Hurt and exhausted.
Accosted with so many "favors" all I want is a break
From the dim and the fake.
How long will it take me?
All these people mistake me for something less than I’m worth.
It’s starting to hurt.
They depart,
And I work
On collecting the pieces of heart
I can tape back together.
It’s not “now or never,”
Doesn’t have to be “forever.”
I'm just a little upset by ash-ending endeavors.
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