Perfection

Perfection was the goal,
destruction was the key.

The destination in sight,
I ran.

I told myself,
I was right.
I told myself,
once I achieved
I would be popular,
loved,
admired.

Losing a bit of me,
piece after piece.
Wasting away into
a pit of despair.

These hands pushed me forward,
these voices told me to go,
convincing me I could reach,
this goal*.

this goal I was chasing,
this goal that was moving,
this goal I could never acquire.

Perfection was the goal,
Destruction was the key.