n.i.m.b.u.s.

im(perfect)ions

compare the Greek notion,
of flawless beauty,
with the teacup
of an oriental master.

the teacup misshapen,
uneven and rough,
is one of a kind:
majesty expressed in faults.

but the greatest Adonis's,
will all look the same,
shunning their personalities,
in favour of flavourless appeal.

shouting at the mirror,
shoving fingers down our mouth.
we're getting thinner,
but never thin enough.

makeup to conceal the acne,
powder to conceal the pockmarks,
mascara lacerating all across the face,
red, red, cherry lipstick:
hiding our own souls.

but we do it for ourselves,
not the approval of others,
that makes it better,
right?

we just want to feel good,
about our body.
just a few more pounds,
and then i'll stop.

we want our inner self,
to be reflected in our outer self.
the creature staring through the mirror,
must look like all the perfect statues,
on the grinning, glowing screen.

so should we then,
just be passive?
accept our imperfections,
even when we know we can't?

you've already reached your milestone,
the rest is just endless improvement.
you're running past your milestone,
so there's no need to rush.

it's never worth the tears,
it's never worth harming
your perfect body,
your perfect soul.

dive into the sea of challenges,
that you yourself created.
just don't forget to resurface,
coming up for precious air.

there's a bottomless chasm,
hiding below the waves,
it gets darker as you go.

please don't ever drown,
or else I'll have to dive in too.