Post-Perfectionism

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Perfectionism.
I used to see it as
One of my best attributes.
I wore it so proudly
On my sleeve.

Perfectionism.
I used to treasure hundred percents
More
Than I treasured
My sanity.

Perfectionism
Was ingrained in me
Throughout
My education
Because if you want
Your hard work recognized
It better be perfect
Otherwise, it's not worth it.

Perfectionism.
Setting the bar high
For yourself.
Setting goals
And reaching them
Feeling that high, that rush
That comes
From a perfect score

But this bar
Is not stationary
This bar moves.
Up
Like the movie, Up -
Up and out of your grasp,
Then out of your reach,
Then out of sight.

And then you're stuck.
Trying,
To reach this bar you cannot see
But pray it's there,
Because perfection
Is where you're told you need to be.

They say,
"There is no elevator to success
You have to take the stairs."
What they don't say,
Is success doesn't always
Live
On the top floor.

They say,
"Reach for the stars."
The stars
Are more than four light-years away
The stars
Are forty trillion K away
The stars
Cannot be reached
And why would you want to, anyway?
They're simply balls of gas.

How
Have I reached the point
Where average
Is not average
And good enough
Is not good enough
And great
Is the worst case scenario
And perfection -
An impossible
Unattainable
Abstract concept, really,
Is the only option?

Perfectionism.
I used to see it as
One of my best attributes.
I wore it so proudly
On my sleeve.

Now,
I see it as a hurdle,
A barrier.
A locked door,
The key to which is one
That leads to
My success.





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