Good looks and perfection seem to be the standards in this distorted place we call Earth.

Well, news flash: no one's perfect, we all have our flaws!

To me, the people that are perfect are those people that stay true to themselves! No good looks (looks fade), but the ability to stay loyal and true to yourself, and most important,the ability to listen to your own heart without people whispering things for it.

I'm always there for people, yet no one sees me. To everyone I'm just a piece of thin air, to some maybe even a waste of space.

I always try to help, yet no one appreciates it. Everyone rejects any form of help I offer, some even reject me.

Some people say they're lonely but not alone...well, I'd be a happy guy if I could say that too.

The sparkle in your eyes burns like a recently lit candle.

The subtle hint of mystery in your face is so small yet so defining, almost like a cricket, barely visible yet so appearent.

There this look in your eyes that pierces right through my soul like a hot knife through butter.

Your beauty struck me like a well shot bullet, and I didn't dive away, instead I took the hit and let it take the best of me.

I thought I knew you, yet I don't.
I thought I loved you, yet I feel nothing.
I thought you were always there for me, yet it feels like you're not.
I thought you were my father, yet you feel like a stranger.
You live in the same house as me, yet it feels like we're thousands of miles apart.
I thought I had a father, yet you only feel like the man who gave me life.

Skinny, ******* and large butts...that seems to be what some guys call "beauty", but if they'd only take a moment to look at a girl's eyes and use them as a window to her soul, they might realize that people can be way different on the inside. Use those eyes to look at her soul and when she still seems great, then you can say "She's beautiful"

I'm a bubble. A tiny bubble filled with anger, sadness and every negative emotion. As the days go by, I grow bigger and bigger, waiting for the point where I pop... And I will be gone, forgotten, reduced to a few tiny drops of nothing, that soon will evaporate like water on a hot plate. That, what was once a bubble, will soon be a vague memory.

Her lips are sealed together. Her voice is hidden away inside, waiting to burst through the shame that seals her lips like superglue. Her shoulders are hanging down, like the twigs of a willow. Her eyes are white waterballoons, that are ready to burst. Her hands are folded together, like the only person she trusts, is herself. I can see that she wants someone that will remove the superglue, pop the balloons and who will unfold her hands and guide her down this road, taking a right turn at the end, towards happiness