Note: A short poem about Kai, and the Abbey children as well I suppose.
Perfect Hopelessness
Perfection is all they want from you
They scream it at you through bared teeth
And torture you for every wrong step.
Isolated for perfection:
Who can know you from such a distance?
How can you be warm
When there is nothing around you but cold air?
You have seen your own blood
More times than you can count.
You know it's smell, it's consistency,
You know it's taste by heart.
They shed your blood,
And later, when you are perfect
You'll shed theirs in thanks.
You are too young to understand
That perfection doesn't exist.
Inside you are too old
To even hope that they will ever stop.
You see yourself dying there…
It bothers you less and less as time goes on.
But who can kill perfection?
Who can save what's left?