366 Poems: December 30th, 2016

The Pursuit of Perfection

In the Constitution,

nobody wrote it as “life, liberty,

and the pursuit of perfection.”

(And if they did, they were lying.)

Now today people walk around

with heavy overcoats filled with lies,

looking for the “perfect” this, selling the “perfect” that,

and sometimes it seems that life and liberty

and happiness

fade away.

But you don’t wear overcoats.

In fact you’re quite the light packer,

saying that you don’t mind the cold.

And you’re stubborn,

and you’re disorganized,

and you’re pretty shy when it comes to conversation

and don’t have much faith in your place in the American education system.

But like many people finding their way,

I wasn’t in this race

for the pursuit of perfection.


And yet it was in you that I found it.


366 Poems: September 23rd, 2016

An Imperfect Night

Tonight I went and played an imperfect show,

then went on a date in an imperfect dress

to make up for a single imperfect night

that we had lived just one year ago.

And after we rode the imperfect trip home

and I washed the sweat off my imperfect face,

I came to the fact that I had always known

we were perfect.


We’re always worried

about the mess-ups

and where we could go wrong.

And I’ve gone wrong

too many times to count,

although you don’t see it that way.

To you, I’m something crazy

that’s too perfect to exist.

And you won’t let me say you’re wrong,

but for you…

Do you know what I think?

I think that I’ve grown tired

of people who don’t mess up.

I mean, who is even like that

when you’ve known them long enough?


I’ll admit that you messed up,

but then again, so did I

for falling for the world’s most amazing idiot.

🙂 Oh yes, I’ll admit it,

and if I’m too perfect for words,

then at least you’ll know that I’m doing something right…

After all,

some things can only be so perfect.

10 Poems by Bedtime: #8

Broken Friends

We like to think we are stronger than this

but we,

we are each others mirrors.

And let me tell you,

there is nothing worse than seeing someone else break.

When we unlock the back story

and see the cuts below the sleeves,

or the teardrops through the telephone,

or the nervous laugh as the crowd just




and leaves another crystal surface in the dust.

We break a little bit when we see our own flaws,

and the imperfections we’ve already learned to hate…

but when we see our friends shatter,

those lovely, lovely mirrors that we look up to,

we see our world shatter within them.

A perfect,

perfect surface

that can break with a small slip.

And we like to think we are better than this

but we,

we are each others expectations

and there is nothing worse than finding that the person you wanted to be

is as broken as you are.

“The Enchanted Mirror”

365 Poems: October 8th, 2014


I spend too much time

expecting things to be “perfect”:

thinking the sun will shine

or the rain will fall

or the answer will always be there when I call,

that this world is a script

with no plot holes to find

or stumble and fall into

and float through my mind

where they sky’s full of dreams

of what my life should be

and these dissapointments

flooding through like the sea.


They shouldn’t be.

This world’s got no time

to re-straighten the shelves

and thinks maybe it’s time

to decide for ourselves.

So no, it’s not perfect;

it’s never been so

but it’s all that we’ve got

so where else would you go?