The Pressure to be Perfect

 

The pressure to be perfect washes through the media and advertisements
like a botoxed wave
and everyone clucks and tuts and says how horrid she looks terrible….
then they go and spend the national debt in wrinkle creams and pretty shrink wrapped jars marked “miracle”
and trail around after the nippers and tuckers like rock star groupies
The pressure to be perfect grows like black mold in the schools and in the workplace where the only way to get ahead is to treat
yourself like a faulty boiler, let the steam build and just pray there is not too much damage when it finally blows…
The pressure
the pressure
feverishly you keep tilting at windmills and singing the impossible dream song
all the way down
until you slam face first
landing hard on the claw scrabbled floor
under the pedestal where the discards lay.

 

@jaye tomas2014
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
originally written for a daily challenge by Creative Talents Unleashed, the challenge being to write something based on this photo:
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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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