Her eyes danced in the sunlight every single day.
And every time she was happy
The color of a thousand speckled seas graced her onlookers.
Flush rosy red as she blushed sheepishly,
The grandest smile upon her pale, pink lips.
Spotted across her cheeks and nose.
As evenly as a the moon up above danced with the tides.
A button proportionally on her face,
Was perfectly centered amongst her other features.
Enveloping her shoulders,
Was more like the sun than the sun was itself.
Golden, Long, Flowing in the wind with each new step.
Her height was utterly- well, it was good, Yes.
Not too tall nor was she too short.
Her feet were as dainty as a ballerina.
Her fingernails were curved to a crescent moon.
Her legs were smooth as a wax candle.
Her voice was like a lullaby.
Sweet, Soft, Caring- All too sweet.
Her wardrobe wasn't all too fancy, but no one could ever tell the difference.
Because those silly, little pink dresses were as sweet as strawberries.
As bright as her lips.
And fancy or not, people always claimed.
Always said- She was perfect.
Yes, perfect, Perfect.
What an odd word?
Not a nice word after all- Because she believed it.
She believed she was this thing we call perfect.
As perfect as the equilibrium no one dare speak of.
However, there was always something in her that was not.
For nothing is ever perfect, is it?
And yet, she may have thought that maybe,
Just maybe- They were telling the truth.
Not feeding her lies every time she opened that pretty little mouth.
No.....Lies is what they fed still.
Just for one more peek at her pretty looks and sweet smile.
Yes....Those exact boys who her mother warned her about.
Told her not to be around.
Tried to explain what bad would come from them.
But, she thought they were sweet.
She thought they'd hold her up when she fell.
She thought, of all things, she could trust them.
God was she wrong.....
For these boys,
They claimed she was perfect.
They claimed she was beautiful.
They claimed she was enchanting, and pretty, and-Well-Perfect..
Because that's all they saw on the outside.
But, even she, knew that something inside her was not.
She knew and yet she still asked-
"Perfect? Am I?"
And they'd laugh and say,
"Of course you are darling.
Why wouldn't you be? "
Brushing a finger across her smooth cheek with blades as deep as their words.
Sly, slick, chuckling behind closed doors.
Because, truly they didn't plan on staying another day with her.
Not after they'd taken every ounce of her innocence.
And, as a result, her mother would scold her.
Yell at her.
Little games that felt so right at the time.
Games that made the boys laugh and holler.
Games that made them think they might stand a chance.
Games that made them think they stood a chance with a fancy not so fancy girl.
But, was she so perfect was the question?
Did they stand a chance with this perfectly claimed girl-
And, did it just so happen that she was as perfect as they claimed.
As perfect as the boys said she was?
Maybe, Maybe on the outside.
Maybe with that silly, frilly, fancy pink dress.
Maybe with the smile she'd worked on until it almost always seemed forced.
Maybe with her shimmering, blue eyes that invited so many in.
And still watched so many leave.
Maybe perfect there But, on the inside, never.
No....Never would she be perfect.
Prefect, such a silly word-
No, not perfect for she was imperfect.
At least on the inside.
Her heart, even she knew, was-
Bruised, Shattered, Broken.
Left with the one who first whispered those words.
"How beautiful you are my dear-"
That one word that had and still did fill her head with dreams,
Fantasies, Hopes, Dreams.
A something she would never live up to.
For perfection is:
'The condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects.'
No one had ever told her that.
Hammered that into her brain when it came the time.
No.....No one had ever told her that she was just as perfect and as flawed as a human being could be.
Because nothing- Nothing is ever perfect.
Her blue eyes.
Her curled and uncurled toes.
Her breath, Her walk, Her talk- Nothing.
Not at all.
Perfection as of yet, Is not.
You would think anyone would know this.
Everyone would know this.
Even she would know this.
Nevertheless, she does not.
For her head was filled with as many dreams as the next.
For her heart was curdled by a spoiled brat.
For her brain was riddled by lies from another's lips.
And just because a boy said it once.
"Perfection.".....Yes, that is what she was fueled by.
The murmurs, The hungry eyes, The absolute attention.
The hollering and hooting.
But, still, she doesn't understand.
And, perhaps she never will.
You know, her mother was right.
Perhaps she is a lost cause.
Maybe that is what she is.
What she will become.
What she will be one day.
Kind of sweet, Kind of not, Ugly on the inside,
But there will always be at least one person who thinks she is flawed.
Somehow, Somewhere, Some way, Always.
She is pretty anyhow.
And smart nonetheless.
And sometimes she's sweeter than an apple pie.
Sometimes she's not, and that's okay.
Sometimes she smiles, and brightens people's day.
And sometimes she cries, and closed doors will never reveal her pain.
But, there is one thing we can be certain of,
She is definitely not as perfect as any boy will ever believe.....