Tag Archives: imperfection

The Imperfection of the Stars

27 Feb

Perhaps a bit melancholy, but then again, it is Thursday.



The Imperfection of the Stars

I wished to be a beautiful creature

but found I was covered in scars.

But the sky, it pulled me aside and said

my dear, have you seen the stars?

They burn and crack and shoot off rage –

not so different from those lines

you seem to think a falsehood make –

my dear, do you know what lies

are really there? Smooth, flawless skin

is not a truth hood here.

My dear, the beauty of life you see

is in this thing called tragedy

and we are all but beautiful disasters

and intertwined to chaos make.

This world was not created by perfection –

no, all this was created by a snake.

And so we are not doomed but dared

to show our roughness and our edge,

those imperfections that now define

what is our beauty in every line

and every wrinkle and every crease –

we live because our imperfections never cease

and deviation does not evil mean,

so go ahead, my dear. Please show your seams.


You are no string of Christmas lights.

16 Dec

I’ve battled depression. I’ve battled eating disorders. I’ve battled abuse and bullying and cruelty from people who said they loved me. And for years, I thought that if only I could figure out what had gone wrong with me, what flaw it was that had broken through my skin and left such a gaping hole, then I could remove it, fix it, and everything wouldn’t hurt so more.

I never could do it.

But that was because there was no master flaw in me.

And then today, I was hanging Christmas lights.

tangled christmas lights

You are no string of Christmas lights

You are no string of Christmas lights, honey,
with your wires all tangled and one loose light
that if you could only find and twist back into place,
you wouldn’t be so broken anymore.

There is no one loose gauge to you,
no link bumped out of place,
there is no one thing wrong for you to fix
and suddenly be restored to your former glory.

That’s not the way that people shine.

You’re so much more than the current running through your veins,
you are not just the lights you show.
And how you feel is not a glitch,
because there’s nothing wrong at all.

How you feel is how you think
and how you act
and how you blink
when somebody tries to poke you in the eye –
if you jerk back, if you don’t move, or
if you just all out slap them in the face.

There’s more decision than reflex there.

You are not missing one part that should shine.
You are not mere plastic decoration.
You have not failed, because perfection was never a requirement.
You are no mere string of Christmas lights, honey.