Imperfection
The Most Imperfect Human that Is Ever So Perfect to You
It’s not the fear of loneliness
It’s the thought of the most imperfect human
not being with you
The most imperfect human that is ever so perfect to you
The imperfect feeling of their fingers running up your back
Late at night when you couldn’t sleep
Soothing you, drifting you off into a perfect land
The imperfect way their hands intertwined with yours
In the center console of the car
Their imperfect voice that always managed to make sense
In any conversation they held with you
So again, it's not the fear of being lonely
It’s the notion that the most imperfect human left
The most imperfect human that is ever so perfect to you
About the Creator
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