When I run,
the thought of you
makes me run faster.

I think about how
angry you made me,
and I become stronger.

You're no longer my weakness.
You're my strength.

I hated it.
Every single time
you called me beautiful,
I hated it.

I get it;
I have blue eyes,
long hair,
a thin body.
Everything you wanted.

But there's so much more to me than that.

I bet you wouldn't have liked me
if I had shorter hair
and a little extra weight.
That's why I realized I don't want a guy
who constantly calls me beautiful.

I want to be called
mesmerizing,
fascinating,
breathtaking.

Those words say much more about the real me
than "beautiful" ever will.

I find beauty in the trees,

truth in the breeze,

security in the sunrise,

and peace in your blue eyes.

Finally
remembering
how
to
forget.

If you start questioning it,
she will too,
and then she'll be grateful
that you made her stop and think about it all
because she'll realize you were never
what she wanted.

But what it'll take you a while to realize
is she wasn't what you wanted
either.

Sometimes, I think I really loved you
but fell out of love.

Sometimes, I think I never loved you,
just felt like I should.

Sometimes, I think I loved you all along
but knew it was best to let go.

I'd rather be hard-to-get
and end up with a guy
who's willing to fight for me
than be easy
and end up with someone
who doesn't truly deserve me.