Perfection donned human skin,

and played

the violin.

People cheered

in a daze

But never figure what the song says.

A smile of a thousand stars.

Enthralled hearts kept in jars.

Her greatest fear long gone;

Who fears failure if they're never wrong?

Perfection donned human lungs

And spoke

in human tongues.

Issues solved

with her voice,

Though those who listened seldom had choice.

A smile of a thousand stars.

Enthralled hearts kept in jars.

Her greatest fear long gone;

Who fears failure if they're never wrong?

Perfection donned human head,

but with

kind thoughts instead.

And smart ones

filled her too.

How could someone be so wise and true?

A smile of a thousand stars.

Enthralled hearts kept in jars.

Her greatest fear long gone;

Who fears failure if they're never wrong?

Perfection donned human brain

and soon

felt disdain.

"How," she wailed,

"Can this be?

Without success, who could value me?"

A s̶m̶i̶l̶e̶ of a thousand stars.

Enthralled h̶e̶a̶r̶t̶s̶ kept in jars.

Her greatest fear l̶o̶n̶g̶ ̶g̶o̶n̶e̶;

Who fears failure if they're n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ wrong?

P̶e̶r̶f̶e̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ donned human heart.

Slowly

rose to restart.

Smiled behind

tearstained eyes.

Prospect of perfection: naught but lies.

A smile of a misty sky,

with loved ones by her side.

She'd always fear failure.

But everyone makes mistakes, see?

So it's okay.

“Flavorless. Without Seasoning. A bland chunk of meat. That’s what I’d be.”

I’ve been through a few things and wouldn’t be myself without them. Instead, I’d be a stranger I've never met—I’d be undercooked ribs attached to the bone.

You could waste time wondering what life would be like without your issues, hell I know I have, but as I did, you may fail to realize you’re still alive and end up pondering forever. You got through all that fucked up shit somehow and found a way to crawl out, so take time to realize it and savor it. I get it, it can be nearly impossible to distinguish whether you are indeed out of it until years after the fact. Perhaps, you chose to be deaf to the wise, hardheaded, and ignorant like me; Blazing your path and hammering through every brick wall you came across when you could have easily just walked around them. Maybe you felt like you were forced to, as you were stuck in first gear chugging through life in survival mode for nearly twenty years; Something you were taught at an early age how to do; How to be a navigator, never the driver. It’s also possible there is a reason never to be understood. Hell, I still don’t know.

For whatever causes got us here, our experiences are who we are now; aged pieces of meat slow-cooked to perfection and nothing to be ignored. What was once, a tough, flavorless slab of flesh just required time and patience to become an Umami masterpiece. Hot off the grill and well rested, let everyone grab a plate. Make sure to add a kiss of motherly alcoholism, a sprinkle of homelessness, and a dash of mental health issues to taste, then finish it off with a few globs of other fattening shit to clog the arteries. Make them grease the corners of their mouths and line their bellies until they are sick.

I would rather be dry-rubbed in my special blend any day than be seasoned like all the rest. So, serve me up until I’m gone, and save the garnish for the weak.

If I were without my problems who would I be?

All these problems play their role in me being me.

Although, not all of my problems seem fair

These problems of mine are my cross to bare

May they be mental, physical or emotionally earned

Within these problems are lessons I have learned

without any and all of problems I wouldn't be me.

So without my problems who would I be?

Light and free, the air hits differently,

Obscure but secure,

No animosity,

Walking high, no fear,

It all seems clear,

Flying aimlessly,

I'll be who I'll be,

When I am problem free.

What are we

without Problem?

our little problems,

Bigger PROBLEMS

We are Nothing

nothing

to dissolve...

no shoestring

to live on

tie up and

unravel

or trip

out over

and skin

the knee that

Knock knocks

upon the floor

...

No hair bow

to adorn

the crown

of the sweat

kissed and

wrinkled brow

below tresses

that just won't

stay matted

down...

with that

one steady

cowlick that

while walking

Knock knocks

at the forehead

to remind

...

How does the

mind wonder

from the minor

to the Major...

Problems

of Health,

and Death

which at

every other

second

like one tooth

upon another

Knock knocks

with withheld

breath and blood

given wait time:

for the heart

to respond

in kind...

Are we beat?

Or are we beating?

Without our problems challenge @RosemarieThorn