Poem

A poem I wrote for a thing.
It has feelings.

"Perfect"

When I ask if she’s all right,

She always says, “Of course, I’m fine.”

Her lips spread in a smile

That will only remain for a while

Until she thinks I’ve looked away;

Then I’ll know her happiness isn’t here to stay.

 

Sometimes I wish she’d let her guard down

And let that smile turn into a frown.

Sometimes I wish she’d break down her walls,

Cry for some time, and then let herself fall

So she can get back up again,

And rebuild herself better than she’s ever been.

 

“You’re already beautiful,” I try to convince her,

But still she stares at herself in the mirror,

So caught up in her own reflection,

Completely trapped by the allure of perfection

That tells her she’ll never be good enough,

But doesn’t she know that she’s already loved?

 

When I ask if she’s all right,

She always says, “Of course, I’m fine”,

But her eyes speak the truth

Lies she’s believed ever since her youth,

That she just isn’t worth it,

But doesn’t she know that she’s already perfect?