He'd always tell me,
"You've got such a pretty face."
As if the rest of me isn't worthy of such an adjective.
Naked in the mirror wanting to badger this..
Image must be bad for his reputation.
Cause he's used to dating pretty girls,
not just pretty faces,
not just minds elated.
Maybe if I starved myself, he would take me places.
Other than his living room...
Excuses breaking bridges, never thought that this would end so soon.
I tell myself when I get skinny he'll be back like summer heat in June.
Surprisingly enough he arrived faster than expected.
Countless phone calls trying to figure out just how we wrecked it.
My insecurities left him perplexed, I could not stress it.
I could never let him know I knew his mind had been infected.
This cut cloth image of beauty society had injected.
And so I let him talk me back into this hidden romance which had erected.
My insecurities began to eat me alive.
I lost all grounds of affection building this false sense of pride.
And our sorry excuse for a relationship began losing steps in it's stride.
-SydniMichael
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