In the Absence of Perfection--j.g 8/20/04
Three months without it,
The monster has returned.
Scratching at the very foundations I've built,
The ones I couldn't seem to control.
The hateful words long etched into my brain,
The rippling words of defeat.
You're not good enough,
Take the next step and your life is over.
Over...
Over.
Swirling attacks from nowhere creep up beside my bed
As I sleep,
The monster returns.
Where did its foothold come from?
Where did it get its invitation?
How do I close the door
To the meloncholic sadness that inevitably follows?
Not good enough
Never will be.
The fight never ends, nor will it ever.
My heart will continue grasping for his words
And His Word.
But when will the monster be gone forever?
And take the rolling agony away.

The unattainable perfection I long for
Sits neatly beside the door.
Too heavy to pick up, serenly out of reach.
Grappling with this idea of imperfection.
Siempre to be flawed.
Siempre,
Me
And me
Alone.