Queen

Summer,
ooze slow though the pores of her skin.
Water bearer, ice queen,
I am her fiefdom.
Channel anguish through nails,
languish in sedation,
simmer,slip,sever and claw back
and never sleep again.

Perfect

What's this perfection we are all constantly striving for - through our actions, our words, our photographs, our social media outlets, our work, our habits, our mannerisms, our texts, our IMs, our dating profiles, our phone calls, our marriages, our outlooks and anything else which can be a faucet to the outside world?

It's driving me crazy that we can't be flawed anymore; that we can't have stretch marks, that we can't have slow phones, that we can't have hangovers, that we can't be late to work for one day, that we can't seem not busy, that we can't make a joke without aggravating someone, that we can't appear tired, that we can't not know about a popular song, that we can't not know about the latest viral video, that we can't not have emails synced, that we are slow to understand a joke, that we are not wearing the latest fashion, that we don't care about our online profiles, that we don't contribute to social work, that we can't not have multiple talents; that we don't look and sound perfect from every aspect in life.

This pressure is immense and in a world which can access you easily and judge you within the blink of an eye, we are, in reality, just falling apart.