24.03.2026 | MM373

In response to Di’s daily Prompt:

https://wp.me/p3RSgb-wjr

There is a small imp
that lives inside us all.

Not the mischievous kind
we fear—
but the quiet one
that nudges,
whispers,
tugs at the edges
of who we think we should be.

It doesn’t want perfection.

It never did.

It laughs softly
at our polished masks,
at the way we try
to smooth every rough edge,
as if being human
was something
to correct.

But life—
real life—
is imperfect.

Beautifully so.

Like an island
rising from the sea,
shaped not by control,
but by time,
by storms,
by tides that came
and went
without asking permission.

No island is flawless.

And yet—
we travel miles
just to stand upon one,
to breathe it in,
to feel something real
beneath our feet.

So why do we expect
more from ourselves
than we allow
the world?

The imp knows this.

It dances in the cracks,
in the places
where things didn’t go as planned,
where words came out wrong,
where hearts broke
and healed
a little differently
than before.

It reminds me—
gently—
that I don’t need
to be whole
in the way I once believed.

I only need
to be true.

An island of my own—
shaped by everything
I’ve lived,
everything I’ve lost,
everything I’ve become.

Not perfect.
Not untouched.

But real.

— Maggie
The Afterlove Voice 💫