Imperfections - Poem by Eli MorenoDrew
I’ve come to terms
With my imperfections
And by doing so
My depression is reduced
To nothing more than
A story and a few pills
I take at night
That helps me sleep
But in return make me see
Things I don’t remember being
Real or not.
I feel waves of hormones
That makes my face and penis
Break-out causing ugly results
But leaves me rubbing both
Almost every night.
I wake up and forget where I am
Only to feel cold sheets and pretend
It’s cold rye grass cradling me
To calm earthquakes and high tides
Absorbing the soft breeze my fan creates
Then rolling over and being back
In my smelly, humid room.
We all have smelly humid rooms,
Except the rooms of our lovers
Which smell of skin and occasionally incense,
Dimly lit or sometimes in broad daylight.
Lovers don’t have imperfections.
Not even acne scars on backs
Or tangled, curly hair give us
Just cause to resist laying down
Next to empty warm bodies that hold us
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