[I crave perfection.]

I like the permanent taste it leaves
In my mouth;
A coppery layer of [beauty.]
Why does it taste like blood?

Once you get a taste of
[Perfect]
You’re never coming back.
It traps you below the surface of
Your skin.
You live in your own body, inside yourself.
(Imaginary world.)
But the demons, [your] demons,
Crush the truths. Make up your own world.
You breathe unreal air,
You feel fine, but truthfully:
Darling, you’re drowning in perfection.

Everything feels right when it’s
Yours.
Each step you take feels so
Right.
But you’re really walking through a forest of
Your own veins,
The sky consists of scar tissue and bacteria;
The rivers are blood.
Breathe [dehydration] and [malnutrition] like
Real air.

(But soon your body grows empty,)
Your mere existance
With perfection
Is threatening to
[Introduce you to its friend suicide.]
Apparently [suicide] has a gun
And isn’t afraid to use it.
Perfection strangles you, it’s all
Just a trap, I promise.
While your addiction to living
Inside yourself intensifies, your new world
Chains your wrists together tighter
[and tighter]
(While suicide tugs the chain and whispers everything will be all right.
Just remember: its a lie.)

And even then, as a slave to your own
Addiction,
You exist in a flawless environment,
Beautiful surroundings that only the
[Stars should see.]
Oh, how lucky you feel to witness this.
(But you don’t know how many others see it too.)

Isn’t perfection’s superiority over
The world around you
[So alluring?]
Just be careful, because once you

[Want]
[Need]
[Are] perfection
x x x
There’s no turning back.


Darling, I think you’re stuck.
. . . . .
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. ^ . .^ . . . ^ .
. . ^ . ^. .^ . .

[I want to be air.]