She sits in the back of the class
Pen in hand
Quiet
Her grey sweater complements her eyes
I wish I could tell her that
She's beautiful
She never wears short sleeves no matter the weather
She's covering the cuts and scars
I wish she would stop
I know she hates herself
There no reason to
She's perfect
I see her through different eyes
To me she's prefect
To me she's beautiful
But I'll never be able to tell her that
Because I'm the boy with the bright blue eyes
And nobody talks to the boy with the bright blue eyes
