Perfection

You say that no one on Earth is perfect.
You say that the last guy who was perfect
Was nailed to a tree
And that's what you believe
With all your heart and soul.

I know better than that.

You don't think you're perfect.
You don't think I'm perfect either.
Although there was a time when you said
That each time you looked at me,
You forgot that perfection didn't exist.

You don't think that anymore.

I know what perfection is, like divine flawlessness.
It was in the way you talked to me
It was in the way you used to laugh and smile
it was in the way you were so utterly imperfect
And still so astoundingly beautiful as a person.

Now you've been stained and tainted.

That perfect person I used to know
Perfect because he was lazy and sarcastic and had secrets
Secrets that not even his closest friends knew about him
Is gone, vanished without a trace
And in his place I see this hollow man with a cold stare.

I still think you're perfect though.
And maybe that's why my world is so miserable.