The Struggle For Air

perfection.

As the girl laid on her bed,
staring up at the wall,
she wondered if her eyes weren't full of enough color,
if her curves weren't curvy enough,
if her clothes were not bright enough,
if her feelings weren't clear enough,
if her heart wasn't open enough to his soul,

She thinks about the word perfection and how poisonous it sounds.
How vain it sounds.
The same way it seemed when you led her on.

She isn't the perfection your looking for;
because she's the girl who wears hoodies when it's 100 degrees out on a Monday morning.