Tuesday, April 23, 2013


We are all imperfect
yet all searching for thee perfect
we all fall short of who we are
all hide, run, abandon
fill ourselves with shame
a want to tear ourselves apart
our pasts weren't good enough
filled with a loneliness
colored pitch black
yet we are given something so perfect
it is so pure and free
it rewrites our tattered past
and comes to define our future
it is held by imperfection
and spreads like disease
its injected in two
and turns shame to joy
you find what you've been missing
now you'll never let go
you are both still imperfect
but you hold the cure
share with each other
to make the impure, pure

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