The Perfection Filter Addiction

Fri, 03/06/2015 - 18:52 -- kseniac

We walk around pretending we're fine.

No one ever seems to want to find the time 

To walk the fine line

Between knowing someone

through a hashtag or a username

And showing them actual compassion. 

We interact with each other's masks

As we lose our true selves

To the filter of fabricated perfection. 

We can't deal with the possible rejection

Of the detection of who we actually are. 

Hiding behind our complexions

Void of any imperfections

It's like an infection

It's like a disease

It's an addiction. 

I wish some conviction existed 

To stop us from the restriction 

Of our actual depiction. 

Life shouldn't be a work of fiction

But an accurate description 

Of the actual friction present in our lives

So we don't end up like walking contradictions. 

 

Society has made it seem like perfection 

is the key

"Don't get that, get this degree"

"Be full of glee"

"Don't do that anymore that's annoying

don't you see?"

"Hide that sadness" they told me. 

We end up covering everything that makes us 

raw, real, living, breathing human beings. 

And that's the fee. 

Well I don't want to pay the toll. 

I don't want any filters that end up hiding my soul

From the world where I have a unique role 

That no one else can hold. 

I want full control

Over my feelings, thoughts, dreams, and goals

And how I'm pictured to the world 

With no filter of perfection

Skewing the image of my imperfections

and the parts of me that make me whole.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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