100%

Perfect.

A level of expectation that I’ve come to strive for

despite the pain it causes.

 

It has grown to become a relief

to see a 100% atop my paper,

written in glistening blue ink.

 

No longer pride, but relief.

Being granted the temporary luxury of breathing,

before the game begins again.

 

I’ve become afraid to be less than perfect.

So terrified

that a monster dwells inside me.

 

The monster eats away at me,

leaving nothing but an empty shell

Only to be briefly satisfied by a perfect score.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

KheshireKathryn

This is beautiful writing :) I'm pretty sure it sums up my entire life

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