Too Perfect For Love

Postmortem, №3 (Poetry)

Photo by Gaston Roulstone on Unsplash

Even if her sleeve is riddled with flaws,
you can bet she’s worth a chance
if she’s unafraid to wear them
openly.

If she hesitates to reveal her imperfections,
and fails — clumsily — to hide them from time to time,
she isn’t yet ripe for love,
but she might be, soon enough.

If, however, the sleeves she wears appear
pristine, flawless,
as if worn to compliment
the whole of her perfection,

run.

Run without a moment’s hesitation.

The more tempted you feel to stay,
the sooner you should flee.

Run,

like you’ve met the devil
at Hell’s gates,
for you just might have.

Run, hopeful lover, run…

for no amount of love
can redeem a narcissistic heart —
a greedy yet empty vessel,
who has yet to even truly love itself.