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i am glad that you think im pretty,
with suicide notes hidden in the curve of my smile, violence seeping from these star crossed eyes, scarlet lips bitten bloody, war like a halo of thorns about my head, death at my hands and a knife embedded in my heart
i am glad that you think im pretty, but you don't see im falling apart
with desperate hands outstretched i drown in all that is me, and you stand watching, adoring eyes gleaming , lust-drunk and hungry
diluted with your dreams of heroism and sculpting my image into a golden trophy, hopes to carve away at my humanity and insanity, wishes to stuff me full of flowers, honey, sunbeams and poetry (which does not bleed)
i am glad that you think im pretty, but you don't see me in truth, bruised with bitterness and dark longings.
