When one asks about Perfection

She asked me

"Why must you kill yourself looking for perfection?"

I laughed

I told her

My cage is set

Shadows of expectations cast longer than I could possibly fill

As if by nature

I explain that I am lost

Or perhaps I have lost something

Searching through the tiniest cracks and creases of my being

to find the contentment that comes naturally to some

As breathing air

Perhaps I seek to win

Perfection is the answer to competition

Any means necessary to ensure

I can not be beaten any longer

No longer torn down

I am untouchable

I shrug

But contentment was never mine to begin with