perfection wrapped in flaws she sees only the cracks in her interior, sees the mess of her exterior, and she hates hates it all she is blind to the beauty of her hopes, dreams, bright and wonderful holding together the shattered pieces of her humanity. she is deaf to the music of her laughter, the sun in her voice, the glow that radiates from her ideas, her fixations, her idealizations she sees the flaws, the cracks, the destruction that life has riddled across her skin and soul. she sees each mark, each dent, as verification of her failures, cracks in her concept of her best self, but i, i see her, see the damage as the grips of reality, see the shine of her soul through her splintered fragments, and to me, the world, she is the most imperfect perfection.
