They left, and I was here for you.
But I'm not like the last.
I'm afraid that you won't be as happy with me as you were with the rest.
So I try my best to fit in small clothing,
Loathing what I see when I look at my reflection.
Each part of my body, fatter than the next.
I do my best to be perfect for you, because I'm scared I'm not good enough.
Not pretty enough.
Not skinny enough.
Not smart enough.
Not light enough.
Not enough. I'm not enough for you.
That's what I'm afraid of.
I'm scared that you will no longer like me because my skin is too dark.
Because my hair is too short, too curly.
Because my stomach is too fat.
Because my bone structure isn't perfect.
Because I'm not perfect.
But I want to be perfect. If it means I'll have you forever.
That's all I want.
Is you. Forever.
And I'm afraid I won't have that.
Because I'm not perfect.