Perfect

I know what she wants from me

It’s what they all wanted from me

And I know why

It’s perfect

Or so I planned it out to be

Long ago..

Something seems to have gone wrong though

At least it would seem

This process of perfecting

Has led to isolation

Because this, no one really has the potential to be

Not even me

No one comes close

How could they?

And no one gets close

How could they?

Somehow they want the same

But they don’t know where to start

And they don’t want my help

How could I blame them?

This me doesn’t seem real

They all see something they want

Something they want to hold onto

But it’s not me

It’s this perfectly put together man

This man I’ve built

From scratch

To be this fantastic catch

But now, it is me

At least, now there’s no one else

For me to be

No one left for me to be

But then when I let them in

And they get to see

They don’t always think this picture is so pretty

Or at least not like it seemed

Because you see, there’s nothing for free

And over time, I’ve abandoned them

Just like I abandoned him

Because there’s no going back

We always become what we pretend

They say it’s the imperfections

That make us fall

That also make us who we are

And I think, maybe, I’m beginning to understand

There’s nothing to fix

And it’s ok not to care

Because all you can do

If you’re lucky, is to be aware

You can’t change anything

About yourself or anyone else

And that’s ok

Because sooner than you think, one day

It will all be over

Don’t try to be perfect

Try to be aware

ⓒ 2006 Shawn Michael Quinn

At Least

How hard is it to be completely honest?

I suppose the first question should be;

How hard is it, for me, to be completely honest?
We all have a past, don’t we?

And none of us want our past

To interfere with our present

And especially not our future

…or potential futures

But what of when it does?

What of when a piece of the past

Holds a place in the present

In our minds, even if only for seconds?

Maybe some stars align…

And the twinkle in those not so distant eyes shine…

And it feels like it did back then, only better

It makes you question where you are… and whether…

And you scare because you know you’re not in control

But still, it slips, and a part of you lets go

Because guilt is simply a method of repair

And once justified or excused, it’s easy to not care

But nothing stays hidden forever

Even when the words you craft are clever

It’s not so hard for someone to see right through

When betrayal becomes an easier word 

For the emotion commonly known as ‘confused’

But something must be missing, right?

Some need not being met?

Some hope turned into regret?

So many ways to throw it around

So many ways to find some kind of meaning

‘Meaning’… ha!

What a waste of time!

It means what it feels 

And what it feels is just fine!

We can choose to push it away

Fleeting thoughts from another day

And yes, I often think

It must be better that way…

Landing in this quiet place, yet again

Leaves me pondering

Everyone and everywhere I’ve ever been

And I realize that all of this faith in something great

Really doesn’t mean anything

In the day to day

But something is usually missing, I would say

It’s what exists in the space between

Two sets of eyes that meet

Who feel… and act… the same way

ⓒ 2006 Shawn Michael Quinn