at age 10, my mother pointed At the small birth mark On my left knee and said, "Someone's going to love You for that one day."
At age 16, I told her that a boy, One far away, Told me I was unloveable. "He couldn't be more wrong," She promised.
At age 19, She picked up my prescription, And cried, "I don't want you To get your heart broken, Mary." She sobbed.
The empty encouragements mean nothing, When a daughter has decided That the need to be tragically beautiful, Is more important than the need To be exceptionally loved.
i wrote this in 5 minutes I know it's stupid enjoy