I am not perfect.
I whispered aloud.
My shoulders dropped inches.
My head in the clouds.
Relief? Not a bit. Ridiculous, I know.For the only one that cares is me.
But that inner critic can’t seem to let it be.
I am not perfect.
I said with a sigh.
I can’t keep up this charade.
The bar is too high.
My soul longs for more.
For far distant shores….
Perfection is boring.
It’s keeping me in.
I’m safe, and it’s easy…
But this box is wearing thin.
I am not perfect.
I shouted out loud.
My power wants out.
Exposure to the crowd.
I’ll write and I’ll run.
I’ll make grand mistakes.
Be the geek that I am with a funny grin on my face.
I am not perfect I said to myself.
It feels nice to admit it.
To let it seep in.
Perfection is out. Authenticity is in.
**I’ve been receiving a poem a day from bentlily and was inspired to write one of my own!
