Perfection

All I want is a picture of myself

Just one photograph will do

Where I look gorgeous, immaculate, perfect

A veritable pleasure to view.

A picture where flaws have no room to exist

Which doesn’t require any additional assist

A picture so perfect no words are needed

Not even a thousand ones.

A picture that takes my breath away

Every single time I see myself in it

One I can proudly put up on display

To say “See, that’s me! Don’t I look gorgeous?”

A photo immortalizing my split-second perfection

In two dimensional perpetuity.

Just one pretty picture I beg of you,

Hopefully it’s not too much to ask for

I know it’s easier without me in it but

Do take one with me in it, I implore.

Now I don’t want to be a model, oh no

I’m aware that for me, it’s an unattainable goal

Though I have nothing but genuine admiration

for their unearthly beauty worth all adulation

which seeps into every picture they are featured in

Like their presence makes the picture whole.

They told me it wasn’t as impossible as it seems

That it was a combination of factors at work:

Lighting, clothing, background, makeup

Filtering, editing, a ton of rework

That flawless photos aren’t really flawless

Even though they appear unerringly so

And anyone can be made to look perfect

With the right factors, to bring out their glow.

And so I used all of these tips and tricks

I practiced posing, wore pretty dresses,

Learned to wield makeup, attended lessons,

Utilized beautiful places as backdrops in my pics,

Contorted, stretched, twisted to fit in the mix

But the pictures were not perfect.

I kept at it, despite my inner doubts and conflicts

Ignoring my instinct, sharper than skeptics

But they still did not touch perfection.

And then I realized that I can make everything else impeccable

In the photographs, everything but myself.

I was the taint, the blight, the blemish,

the blasted imperfection in all the pictures.

No amount of powder could hide the deformities

No amount of cream could change my skin

No amount of posing could hide my fleshy enormity

No matter what I did, the flaws I was born with

Persisted in its ugly abnormalities.

It’s all right, I consoled myself.

I just had to work on becoming flawless

I can lose weight, try some products

I can alter what I don’t like, fix my appearance.

I can work towards achieving perfection in time

Until then, I’ll ignore my defects in design.

I stopped looking into the mirror

Because I couldn’t bear to see my current state

It only made me depressed and bitter

And impatient with myself for still being tarnished, irate

When I think of others who are already perfect.

I hid behind the unyielding camera lens

Choosing to see, not be seen through it

I took pictures of all the beauty I could behold

Observing perfection was easier than striving for it.

You say beauty lies in the eye of the beholder?

But what if the beholder is lying, blinded by lust

Or worse, spews out these lies to console and smother

With well meaning intentions guided by love?

No, beauty lies in my eye, I am the impartial judge

I can see for myself thank you, I shall never begrudge

Myself the truth because of misguided idiocy.

You want me to learn to love me for myself?

Embrace my glaring faults? Don’t be ridiculous!

That’s what you ask people to do

When they are too weak to accept the truth.

I am painfully aware that I am a blight, an eyesore

I know I have a long road ahead to attain perfection

Don’t insult me with your white lies

I can handle the truth as it is:

I am not pretty; I am not perfect

I cannot love my current self; I am unworthy it of it yet.

To the perfect me who loves herself

I wonder how your picture look sometimes

I doubt I would ever get to be you

But I’ll keep walking towards you nevertheless

One little step at a time.