A Perfectionist Procrastinator's Perfect World!

I make my bed,

crisp linen,

I take a shower,

perfectly warm,

weather is sunny,

cotton-candy clouds,

my mood is airy,

and perfectly fine!

I tend to my plants,

whom I don't forget.

I reach out to friends,

I sing, and I knit.

On time for work,

no intrusive thoughts,

fix things that don't work,

without staring into abyss.

I turn on the TV,

watch people dancing,

I go through my CV,

watch myself winning.

No mood swings, no wars,

No pimples, no scars,

No mismatching clothes,

No misusing hearts.

Perfectly rhymed

and perfectly synced.

Perfectly aligned

and perfectly inked.

Except, I wake up.

A shudder, a dream.

Bed sheets are crumbled,

shower is too cold.

A storm is brewing

in the mighty old sky.

I stare into distance,

past my windows and dead plants.

Weeks since I hummed a tune,

months since I called my friend.

I decide to knit,

then turn on the TV,

I see the wars

and turn to my mind.

I search for memes,

scroll without laughing.

I feel so sorry,

then I feel so numb.

Still, I wake up.

Every day. Not a dream.

Fold my crumbled sheets,

take a cold shower,

put on my raincoats,

stare into nothings.

I knit a bit,

even if it's a bit.

I turn off the world,

crouch into my cocoon.

I go to work,

wearing mismatched clothes,

I text a friend,

maybe after ages.

I listen to a tune,

try to hum along.

I stop the wars

inside my mind.

Or I try.

At least I try.

It's not perfectly rhymed.

It's not perfectly synced.

It's not perfectly aligned

or perfectly inked.

But it's there-

the life in me,

the love in me,

the empathy in me.

No longer perfect,

or trying to be perfect,

it's raw, real, and

more than just beautiful.

-December 2023

(written for IICM '23)