Perfection, my own perfect love.
No wrong can reside within your walls.
So, I create justification.
More than forgiving,
Excusing, validating
The injury and violation
Of my own acceptance.
Refusing to let any stain be seen,
Any lesson learned,
Any growth mature.
Wanting to be supportive,
I held you too high.
I have burdened you with that pedestal,
Forced you to have to look down at me,
Raised you too high to be real.
Needing to be understanding,
I explain your perfection to you,
Make you right.
Hoping to keep you honest,
I authenticate your embellishments.
Then, again, you never tried to stop me.
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