All you tell me is how perfect, gifted, great I am. But all you show me is to hide it all away. Never show it raw, keep it covered in a veil of white, don’t even uncover it in a space alone, no one in sight. With lies, with creams, forced smiles, and fabricated dreams, blanket that bedrock that is me.
Hide away all the imperfections. Never show them your imperfections. Never own, your imperfections.
“I love you unconditionally.” you tell me time and time again. But not your darkest places. Everything but the darkest places. Or all that comes between, for that matter. In fact, I just love the you that’s in this perfect picture. Idyllic face on a pristine day, if it weren’t we’d airbrush it away.
Yes, hide away all the imperfections. Never show them your imperfections. Never own your imperfections.
But that blanket had to grow and grow, build it thicker and thicker to cover all the ugly buried beneath. Until it began to suffocate my soul away. Because the thicker it grew, and the more I pushed them down, I found that all these tiny creatures, these curious imperfections, they were what made me.... Well, ME.
So that is what you taught me. That was the life lesson you left me with: Hide away all that is you. Never show them your spirit. Never own the man inside, the soul you hide, just tuck away your imperfections.
Luke keeps writing and writing. Sometimes good, mostly bad, but he won't stop until he's figured out life's mysteries, or at least won a platinum record or two.... and who are we kidding, not even then.