Picture Perfect

I’d built myself on rotten ground; behaviors dictated by manic depressive episodes and all that it entailed. I’m healthy now and realizing I don’t really know who I am. But I’m excited to learn

Everything is perfect
Picture perfect.

Time has moved on
Moving me on, against all will
Stripping me of the weight
Of past mistakes

Peeling away symptoms, diseases I’ve slayed
With the help of prescriptions and
Structure

Cleansed me of the disarray
Bleached me, washed out the colour -
I’ve colour corrected all my greys.
Transparent

I lay here bare and clean, with the purity of a child

He loves me like I used to love the wild and I...
I love him like he wants me to, I do my best
I’m not a siren

There’s no more lipstick stains on glasses,
Cheap plastic cups of rum, whiskey
Whatever could mask the harness,
The chains,
The cage of my own self-afflictions,
Predictable conflictions.
There’s no more abuse
Of heart
Or substance

Just a glass of Chardonnay on a Sunday afternoon if I’m in the right mood.

There’s no darkness
There’s light and hope and all the right choices being made;
Voluntarily, understandingly at first
Now it’s my nature, prescriptive correction
Of incorrect traits and patterns

I’m doing the right thing.
I can’t write a thing.

Uninspired

Once Screeching, the sound of manic depressive pain,
Anger,
Shattering of glass,
Class. Harps and incoherent
Stagnant weeping
Dissipated into void
Of silence.
Put your ear to my soul now
And
Hear nothing.

Picture perfect came,
Whisked me away from hard-earned place in hell,
From pain,
Meticulously grafted, assured annihilation
Of all things safe

Picture perfect came and
We’re sailing over rotting corpses of my past insane,
Things left behind in the wake of annihilation
Of all things sacred, frail

Picture perfect came
And cured me of wailing,
Of my failure

Picture perfect came
And cushioned,
Swaddled me
In layers of safety.
It battered the black with sane
I’m protected
From annihilation within myself

Picture perfect came and cleaned the slate
I’m a blank state
I’m a child of newness
No strewn mess,
I’m clean.

Picture perfect came and everything else left.
Wrapped in blankets of goodness -
A newborn baby
Filled with nothing.
Assembling myself from scratch
On a ground of softness,
Where once opium of reeling ache
Left empires of crude reflections,
Mazes - unsolvable, Intricate
Magnificent erections of untamed fire
From soils, though cracked and thirsty
Still grew steel roots of anger and distorted, poisonous flowers

There was chaos. There was something.

Picture perfect came
And rolled the coat of sugar
Rolled me into a mellow stupor;
From fresh soil, atop deconstructed hellfire -
I’m sprouting.
I am a tiny perfect seed
Growing all things new.

Reviews

[Planet x]

you left me speahless
You could summarized full life in few words ,
Painful and real
Nothing is perfect here, just life

[Elizabeth]

Wow... I'm left completely speechless.... Your words express such power and has a haunting feel to it.... I loved the transitions between all the stages... A truly amazing piece

[MinorArt]

Thank you for your words, really x

[Elizabeth]

My pleasure! :)