"Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder",
That's what you used to say
But what if
The beholder just threw that belief away?

Would I still be standing tall?
Do I have anything at all?  
The look,
The style,
The beauty?

"Beauty is reflected in your own nature"
Was another phrase I heard.
But my nature is long gone.
The trees, the fruit and even the birds
I'm as barren as the desert
And colder than the Arctic.
I'm as dry as the hottest summer day
And shallower than a puddle.
Im as incomplete as a soduku puzzle
And sadder that I have ever been…

I'm as ugly as I was in everyone's eyes
Yet I still wish that one day you would look at me as a prize,
YOUR prize.
And treasure me like pirates treasure gold.
Because you're the only one I want to grow old with
                                                                   And the only one worth dying for.

I found your T-shirt at the back of my car, hidden underneath the books I’ve read so many times yet couldn’t get rid of because every page reminded me of the way you spoke as though the world was the audience and they were intently watching you go on and on about the way you loved watching the sun set or the rain splash against your window. Your T-shirt smelt of the day you told me you were leaving, cold tears still feeling so warm after the moment you hugged me and said it was for the good, but I never found the good in ‘goodbye’, maybe it was just me stuck in the middle of the night, still wishing upon 11:11, hoping you’d come back