The Heart Chronicles

➳ perfectionism

My silent tears ran down my cheeks,

like the melting wax of a broken candle.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I sat in the corner of my room,

a place where no one sees the constant clock wheels turn,

as I tried to figure out why,

why I liked to imagine myself making friends

with the stars, instead of kids my age.

No one sees me trying to make myself believe,

believe that I belong with the free chirping birds,

when there are chains dragging me down to the earth's core.

No one sees me wishing for people to stop using me as a target for archery practice.

Then she appears, she asks me, "Why are you here?"

She looks at what must seem to be a lackluster pile of bones

that were begging to be broken.

I couldn't reply, I was too afraid to make a mistake.

"No one wants you here, you know that, right?"

I couldn't say anything, so I nod.

She was always right after all.

And then she leaves, making sure to let me know that the way I felt now,

was something I deserved.

I was at war with her.

I was at war with perfection,

and there was nothing I could do

to win all the battles I've lost.