perfectly imperfect

i was friday night lights
dancing with the devil
soaking up praise from parishioners like preachers do in pulpits
i stood on stages and sold soliloquies
i was brash
bold
and beholden to my own
being
as soon as god gave me breath
i was being

grasping for glory
i had game planned my greatness
i was god

no blasphemy in my bravado
i was god's son
given this gift
i used it as god gave it to me
it was good

but she
she was sunday morning service
her praise was private
her soliloquies stood in shadows
she was quiet
and quaint
she was the reason for her reign
queen
she was queen

we were different
opposite ends of a candle
but burning just as bright
i was 12 AM when the world was at its darkest
and shadows ran rampant

she was 12 noon
when the sun decided to dance at its highest
touching everything with its light

she was my light
and i was her rough edge
she was my quiet whisper
and i was her fight
she taught me how to have a warm heart
as i taught her how to have a cold shoulder
turn her back on those who were not worthy of her smile

she was my smile
and i was her
"quick to punch a motherf*cker in the mouth if they looked at us wrong"

we were wrong
but only when we weren't together
because separately
our imperfections stood up and shouted
made a mockery of this mess that we called love

but hand in hand
they danced
complemented each other with perfection

she said nothing was perfect
so pessimistic

i told her that WE were perfect
the lies of an optimist

but only in our imperfections

because our imperfection made us perfect
for each other

she was enough quiet for the both of us
and i promised to never roar in the house

she made me perfect
and i
showed her
that she had always been

(paulwroteit/copyright 2014)