Creepypastas

Perfect.

“Perfect…

Put it this way, what is perfect?

Person, I ask you this out of irony

Perfectly Ironic perfection.

Punctually, there isn’t much that is perfect.

Physically there isn’t much that is perfect.

Perfect.

Perfect, the word perfect is the only thing that is Perfect.

Personally that’s what I thought

Personally I thought that perfectly well.

Perfect.

Precisely, until I met you. Oh you are just so wonderful.

Probably not perfect.

Parts of you are

Perfect…

Perfectly perfect. The perfection of perfect.

Perfect, the one word that never loses meaning.

Perfect, the one thing you never want to change.

Perfect, the one thing that never occurs.

Perpetually except for you,

Probably only you.

Perturbing enough as it is you’re not perfect.

Not yet.

Perfect…

Potent as that word is, there is still so much to do.

Perfect.

Pushing to make things perfect.

Perfect.

Please see what I want to do.

Pray that it works, for your sake.

Plead that I don’t make a mistake.

Potentially the only person close to

Perfection

Plainly stands out to be you.

Play along with my fantasy,

Please?

Pleasant as I may seem I just want one thing.

Perfection.

Please, see what I see.

Please, see what I see in you.

Perfect hands,

Perfect legs,

Perfect fingers,

Please understand that there are parts of you that are not

Perfect.

Not too bad though.

Preferably I would like to keep you in one piece.

Pieces.

Partial deconstruction is necessary.

Please understand this is necessary.

Perfection cannot have any flaws.

Plenty of imperfection is out there,

Patient as I have been, I couldn’t find

Perfection.

Polite as any gentleman, you walked into my office

Paste white spots started up on your gums.

Pulsating feelings of sheer bliss shot through me,

Pointing you out as the one. The one that would be

Perfect.

Puncture you with knives I will,

Peeling and cutting the parts that keep you from being

Perfect.

Pain you may feel,

Protests you may cry,

Please know I do this for your own good.

Plan an escape you won’t do,

Play dead you shall not.

Practice is something I have done a great deal of; I know what I’m doing.

Tied to the table you are wrist bound in shackles hidden in my basement.

Parting with your arms is necessary

Plotting your hands back on will be easy.

Poising on the term “symmetrical” I weave,

Plundering your body I venture.

Placing all those intersection on a near by cart,

Pausing only to admire my work.

Please don’t look, please don’t look.

Peek no more at your imperfection,

Pinch those eyes closed and wait,

Please wait for your perfect body.

Pronouncing claims you do,

Phrasing such horrible things, yet I’m doing you a favor.

Pressing your lips shut to conceal screams,

Permanently I leave a smile on your face.

Please understand I just want you to be

Perfect.

Ponder what I have done for you,

Pardon me for these intrusions.

Phase four almost done.

Prying you open I remove un-necessary organs.

Practically there, just a little more.

Praise my work, admire me.

You are now, perfect.

Perfect.

Peer at yourself and see that you are

Perfect.

Prepared this mirror I have, look, look.

Pleased I am with my work, I must do it again.

Parent I will be for you, and your siblings.

Poor people of this world, they know not what they miss.

Proud of you I am,

Plotting a plan I am.

Preach this I wont, others may not agree,

Prowl the streets I will, for more so close to perfect.

Practice on more of them I will,

Poaching perfection.

Pure perfection.

Please help me in my work, you will right?

Profusely I will perform my work.

Perfection I will spread.

Prefaces to my new work, and glory to the world.

Pack your things, a new place we will find.

Proudly I will make more people oh so

Perfect.

Prepare… For perfection.

I love you."