Imperfect Collection of Atoms

I am an imperfect collection of atoms,

cellular mass with regular irregularities.

My body is flawed from misplaced fibers in my hair to each and every mole on my skin.

I am imperfect in many actions undertaken,

from every lie ever uttered to every act of selfishness repeated.

Don’t build me up to be something I’m not.

I am no living legend no savior for the meek.

I create art as long as there are those to perceive it.

I’m as flawed as every other being born from a womb.

So let us liberate each other with our imperfections,

let your pain be mine to sooth and my fear be silenced by your reassurances,

let my imperfect hands caress your imperfect cheacks,

so perfectly because though we are a tangled storm of atoms in constant motion,

our chemistry harmonizes and I don’t have to be perfect,

just a man, no more no less.