Perfect

What happens when you desperately try to locate your 'home' on Google maps?
What happens when you smile at the virtual pleasure of that landmark near by being sighted?
What happens when you cannot enact the 'sugar and spice everything nice' act over and over again?
What happens when you are too tired for 'adjustments'?
What happens when you begin early? Seventeen to be precise. Leave home, start adjusting, fight and smile back at hostile faces?
What happens when everyone around you fails to understand?
What happens when for that brief minute you face the mirror?
What happens when resilience, energy, enthusiasm, charm and the long list of adjectives wear off?

You grow old. You smile back. You cry. You ask for space. You end up at chaos. Chaos within self and surroundings.

You have to be the perfect one. Pretend and play. Bleed and cry. Repeat.