Perfection

I'm stuck in a state of thought after trying to get my lover to understand my logic. No one can feel what I'm feeling at this moment so I pick up a pen and a pad to ease my mind. I seem to be losing the perfect game. Am I human for my thoughts? Am I human for what I said? Am I human for what I did? I'm sorry, but it's too late, she left. I take a second to realize that this may be it for us, the pressure is too much to handle. If only love were perfect.

 I take my pen to write...

My thoughts begin to flow on paper, I have to find the words to keep me in a perfect state of thinking but it seems impossible. There are no words that can explain what I feel. I'm sorry, but she's gone. I breathe for a second...

If only these words could keep her in perfect harmony with me. I keep telling myself that pain can be healed but it takes time. Why is my heart beating fast? I have to keep writing to ease the pain? Somehow she is connected to my state of being. I need her but she left me all alone and all I have left is a pen to save me. She went out into an unstable world without me. I'm tired, so I let her go; realizing that I cannot protect or save her, I start to drift. I'm tired of trying to figure this out.  When I'm alone, I want her, but when  she's here, I want to be alone. Men lust to be with her. They stab me in the back. They lie. She lies. I have nothing left and no words to keep her happy. I'm losing her, if I haven't lost her already. Her last lover killed himself because he couldn't live without her. I look in the mirror and imagine a perfect world. It's the only hope I have left so I turn off the lights and lay in the darkness. It's quiet, the dream of a happy ending with her fades away, but at least tomorrow I have another chance to strive for perfection. I lost one. The pressure of trying to be the perfect man is over. The next day I wake up to the sound of birds and a bright morning sun. I have another chance.