it isn't true ; don't
believe them.

drinking and smoking and black
eyeliner to hide eyes puffy
from crying isn't
attractive.

it's messy, it's wild, it's
broken, in a
haphazard sort of
way.

i present you with a different
face each day;
green eyes flecked with gold.

those remain the same.

but beyond that, oh
beyond that
there's the pain.

and oh god,
the pain, it
could **** you.

i suggest you leave.
i am a hazard to myself.