How can I be perfect?

You wake up in the morning and look in the mirror
And you need help if you’re happy with the way you look
You’re supposed to ask yourself one question.
How can I be ‘perfect?’

Perfect. A word used so often it has a twisted meaning.
Perfect means having the right clothes, the right hair, and the right attitude.
When it used to mean just being you.
So, every single day you tell yourself, 
You need to be ‘perfect.

What is the definition of Perfect?
Who decides what the perfect human is?
Our friends, us, the Internet?
If we let those define who we are and what perfect is than by definition
We are already imperfect.

When a baby is born people don’t say.
“I wish it was different.”
No…they say.
“It’s perfect.”

At what age do we start discriminating?
At what age do we decide to label people as “Imperfect?”
At what age do we think, ‘I have the right to tell this person their imperfect.’

When you’re up on that high horse, you’re in for a bumpy ride.
Because soon you’ll be bucked off and realize…
No one is PERFECT.

Everyone has something they would change, something they’re not proud of.
Our lives aren’t decided by “Imperfect and perfect.”
They are decided by, “Good and Evil.”

So instead of asking,
“How can I be ‘perfect?’
Ask this…
“How can I destroy myself?”

You go to bed at night and think about what you did, said, and wore.
Are you happy with that? No.
You’re always saying.
“I wish I’d dressed differently.”
Why would you torture yourself primping your outward appearance when the inside?
Could be even more beautiful?
Why is no one cutting you open and trying to beautify your heart?
Your intestines are jumbled chaos. Why is no one trying to straighten them out?
Because as messed up as they look, they are still wonderful on the inside.

I hope someday you can look back on your life and say.
“I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

You wake up in the morning and look in the mirror
And who see is beautifully confident.
And you should tell yourself one thing.
“I’m beautiful because I am imperfect.”