The Age of Perfection Depression

The age of perfection depression

POEM BY ELLEN LI

This is the Age of Perfection Depression

Clean lines. Straight and Neat. Perfection.

This is the Age of Perfection Depression

Our sadness stems from our inability to meet expectation

The darkest kept secrets brushed under the carpet

Because we can’t have them sense a single ounce of our fear, our struggle, our failure.

An Age of Perfection Depression.

*   *   *   *   *   *    *    *   *   *   *   *   *

Grating metal pulls and yanks our teeth to divinely straight ghostly-white pillars.

And, if they can’t form pearly column after column

Then, more chains and stitches can help be the filler

Because this is The Age of Perfection Depression

But, we are still so so very far from perfection

*   *   *   *   *   *    *    *   *   *   *   *   *

A single powerful glance into the mirror has swept us away

They tell us not a single ounce of us can stay

And, if they further continue to scale us

We’re just going to have to continue to adjust

Because this is The Age of Perfection Depression

But, we are still so so far from perfection

*   *   *   *   *   *    *    *   *   *   *   *   *

They scoff towards the mask that we wear

They scoff towards the face that we unveil

Layers upon layers makes us feel so out of place

And, our skin is no longer our own

But, “Remember dear, don’t forget that base!”

Or the shadows, blushes, glosses, and fake.

Because this is The Age of Perfection Depression

But, we are still so far from perfection

*   *   *   *   *   *    *    *   *   *   *   *   *

Oh wait, Oh no. Don’t believe for one second that it’s about how we look.

We must delve deeper within.

That fake smile must mirror what’s beneath the skin.

It must be the emotion far more genuine than that of the man of tin.

Our feelings should not reveal where we have been.

But, rather the emotions like those characters from that book.

Because this is The Age of Perfection Depression

But, we are still far from perfection.

*   *   *   *   *   *    *    *   *   *   *   *   *

Not only must our actions not reflect our true passion

But, we should behave exactly as what is expected of us.

Most importantly, we must show the brains we bear.

We should have bouts of knowledge upon knowledge to fare

However, beware!

Prove that we have little care

In how much knowledge we can share.

Because this is The Age of Perfection Depression

*   *   *   *   *   *    *    *   *   *   *   *   *

Now that we’ve reached our limit in perfection

The cost of getting here

Is a price, we’ll have to bear.

The only things keeping us sane,

Lie within that pill bottle held with shame.

Pills that allow us to draw in a deep breath on a particularly haunting day

Pills that keep that smile on a face

Pills that ensure we don’t hate everything that we make

Pills for survival is just one of the smaller prices that we must pay

Because, ultimately, we have lost ourselves

In The Age of Perfection Depression.

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