To the pretty girl
who has self-esteem issues—
I see you.
I see you lingering in the background,
trying your hardest
to be noticed—
not enough
to be the center of attention,
but enough
to receive a hello
and a smile back.
To the pretty girl
sitting in the back,
hiding her eyes
behind her hair—
your eyes sparkle
like lightning in the sky,
your smile
is the warm sun
on my melanated skin.
Your hand
brings me back to this crazy world
again and again.
To the pretty girl
who believes
love isn't meant for her—
I see you.
I love you
for who you truly are,
not for what is between your legs
or the shape of your body.
You could wear a brown paper bag—
my head would still turn
when you walk past.
It's the fact
that you don't know
how beautiful you truly are.
It's the genuine kindness
you as a person exude.
To the pretty girl
with brown eyes
that melt my insides—
it's you.
It always has been you.
From the moment we locked eyes,
I just knew.
I tried to play it cool,
but I just cannot stop
thinking about you.
How your hair falls down your back,
to the way you avoid
eye contact.
To the prettiest girl—
be proud of who you are.
Never let your head down.
Adjust your crown
and keep it pushing.
