Me and perfection, that’s an impossible dream

Inception’s an infection, if you know what I mean

Me and Perfection, that’s an unlikely scene

But I still chase after her

like she’s all that I need

Running circles around her so fast,

I can barely breathe

Poetry is how I deal with

emotions, gasping for air, choking.

Refuting and sweating, the idea I am soaked in

Flex on the haters, who think I’m joking

Even tho I

Can’t control the thoughts, so I

Transform the emotion, hoax this

Impossible to focus

On top of the yeast, but I am loafless

Nexus doesn’t exist between me

And perfection.

I speak these things

But they don’t get this

See before the first rejection

Before the first erection

I had

Purity

The lack of which drove

The deepest wedge between me

And my love

Not poetic enough?

No one’s perfect

Yet I want to be

The desire coming from deep inside of me

The past is behind me

But the memories live

right beside me

Stopping me from love

Keeping me in lust

Do I seek perfection

or does perfection seek me?

Are we ever meant to be

or just something that I will never see?

This idea questions me:

self Interrogation,

a disgusting sensation.

Rewriting lines of poetry,

hoping me is not as weak

as I or myself

but

Eventually, my heart will break

Perfection will cut it out

And cook it into a steak

broiling the emotion

And all the fake

For God’s sake

Let me be free of these questions I debate

Perfection and me lie

In two beds, not together

Two hearts aligned

but the string was severed

If I chase perfection and find her

I have achieved inception

If I chase perfection and don’t

It’s not a scene of rejection