the perfect child
Perfection wears a mask so tight, it suffocates the soul beneath—until all that's left is a silent scream no one ever hears.
I became the perfect child,
not because I wanted to,
but because I had no choice.
Quiet.
Compliant.
A shadow against the wall,
invisible in my stillness,
a ghost haunting my own life.
I learned how to disappear
long before I understood
what it meant to be gone.
Perfection is a form of death.
I carved away the parts of me
that screamed,
the parts that wanted,
the parts that bled.
Each piece fell away
like flesh from bone,
until there was nothing left
but this shell—
polished,
smooth,
and empty.
I hollowed myself out,
scraped away anything
that made me real,
made me feel.
I became perfect
so I could survive the chaos,
but in the end,
the silence consumed me.
Do you know what it’s like
to strangle your own voice?
To choke it down
until you forget
it was ever there?
I do.
I did it every day,
swallowing screams like broken glass,
feeling them cut my throat,
until I could taste the blood of my own silence.
Perfection isn’t a shield.
It’s a mask that fuses to your skin,
until you can’t tell
where it ends and you begin.
I became so perfect
I forgot how to be human.
I learned to smile without feeling,
to nod without thinking,
to vanish—
even while I was standing right there.
The quieter I became,
the more the silence devoured me.
It was never peace—
it was a suffocating darkness,
something heavy,
pressing its weight into my chest,
crushing the breath from my lungs
until I couldn’t remember
what it felt like
to be alive.
I’ve been dying in this silence for years,
choking on every word I never said,
drowning in the compliance
I taught myself to believe was survival.
But it’s not survival—
it’s surrender.
I laid myself down in the grave of perfection
and buried everything
that made me real.
I wanted to scream—
I still want to scream.
But the mask I wear
won’t let me.
It’s too tight,
too close to my skin,
and I feel it strangling me
with every breath I take.
I am suffocating in my own silence.
Each day is another layer of dirt
piled on top of me,
another nail in the coffin
I built with my own hands.
Perfection was my prison,
and I locked the door
behind myself.
I am still here,
moving through the world
like a corpse—
quiet, compliant,
aiming to stay off the radar,
because the radar is where the danger is,
where the pain is,
where the risk of being seen
feels like being torn apart.
So I stay hidden.
I stay dead.
There’s nothing left inside me
but echoes.
I’ve carved away everything real,
everything that could hurt,
and all that’s left
is this hollow shell,
fragile and cold.
If you tapped my chest,
it would sound like a grave,
empty,
waiting for someone to fall in.
I became the perfect child
because perfection was all I had left.
But the more perfect I became,
the less I existed.
Now, I don’t know where I went—
I’m buried somewhere
beneath the weight of this silence,
and I can’t find my way out.
The mask I wear is no longer a choice.
It’s grafted to me,
stitched into my flesh,
and every time I try to peel it away,
I feel the skin tear,
I feel the rawness underneath,
the emptiness where I used to be.
There is no escape from this perfection.
It’s a trap I laid for myself,
and I walked into it willingly,
thinking it would save me.
But now I know—
it never saved me.
It buried me alive,
and no one noticed.
I am not safe.
I am not seen.
I am the perfect child,
quiet, compliant,
and already dead.
—Ryan Puusaari
P.S. This is the first edition of the Shades of Self series. To read future issues, click here.
P.P.S. "Perfection wears a mask that smiles, but behind it, silence sharpens its teeth."
Healing Thoughts — A Journey of Reflection, Poetry, and Healing, Made Possible by You
Healing Thoughts isn’t just another book—it’s a living, breathing collection of reflections, inspiring quotes, and poetry, all pulled from the heart of this community.
Through the highs and lows, the moments of growth and vulnerability, your support made this book a reality.
Each page is a step toward healing, filled with wisdom, introspection, and emotional insight to guide you on your personal journey.
This book is more than just words—it’s our story.
Before You Go
Dive into the latest posts in the archives.
Learn more about me, this newsletter, or my daily texts.
Explore my journals and books over at Wood Island Books.
Follow me on social media for daily inspiration and updates.
Check out my recommended reading list for must-read books and authors.
View my exclusive merch collection—designed to inspire and uplift.
Have questions or thoughts? I am just an email away—reach out anytime.