"Perfect, son. You look perfect."
~Perfect~
That was a new phrase, and I
relished the sound.
I was finally reaching the highest peak of a mountain
I had been trying to climb, struggling up my whole life.
Though I never thought that
Those –two- syllables
would come in a circumstance like this one.
Black swirls on my arm
a permanent reminder
of my new place in this world.
Well if those black swirls hold
~perfection~
Then I suppose I have
NO CHOICE
but to pursue what they stand for,
Right?
-o-
Pureblood
Well connected
Slytherin
No combination holds more capabilities
Or so I've been told.
But when a (mudblood)
gets better marks
When a team of [traitors]
wins the Quidditch match
And when the {half-blood}
gets all the glory
It's hard not to wonder if there's
any truth in what I've heard.
-o-
"You're better than that, Draco.
And I'm tired of hearing that
my own son
is anything less than
a winner"
Said a man with cold eyes, staring over the supper table.
I didn't eat that night.
-o-
Never quite there.
Well connected, pureblood, Slytherin
Prefect; seeker; Malfoy; Black
And still not quite there.
Do the titles mean anything?
Here I am
Hot, stinging pain running through my veins
Blinking tears back from spilling down on
the outline of
{a serpent and a skull}
Apparently,
this is
~perfection~
Strange, it doesn't feel the way I thought it would.
Thanky thanks to Namna-dono, who reads these things before the rest of you. If you liked this, make sure you read her freeverse collection, "What's in a Name?", it's incredible and very well written.
Love to all you who read this, and additional hugs if you leave a review letting me know what you thought :)
Who do you want me to write next? I'm thinking George Weasley, but I'm not sure yet. I'm wide open to suggestions, so if you have one leave it in a review or PM.
