I'm sitting on my bedroom floor and still don't understand why you chose her.
A whirlwind of thoughts have been rushing through my head.
I get it.
She is the epitome of beautiful.
The way her glossy hair cascades down her back.
The way her makeup highlights her features in the most intricate of ways.
The way she walks; elegant and poised.
I cannot compete with that.
No, I am not a "looker" as she.
My crinkly brown hair does not cascade down my back, it slumps.
The features of my face do not align like the constellations of the night sky.
Instead they are nothing but a scattered array of thrown out antiques put on display for all to see.
Constantly I am fumbling over my own feet, causing tornadoes to rip apart my surroundings while I tumble to the ground.
But I am a dreamer, unlike her.
My mind can paint you a flawless image of happiness and laughter.
I can tell you stories off far off places that will captivate your mind entirely.
But most of all, when your demons leave you shaking and gasping for air at two a.m. you don't have to be afraid of waking me.
I too will be warding off my own.
I am the one who understands that the voices in your head can drive you absolutely crazy.
Their tongues are laced with venom and they pry at your golden brown skin searching for a way to invade your hollowed-out soul.
But don't worry darling for I will protect you.
Our demons could play together, if you'd allow it.
Maybe then the weight of the world would be lifted off of our burdened shoulders.
What do you say?
Your momma always told you that it never hurts to try.