I never know how important I am,
Or how much I mean to anyone.
I never know that I'm loved,
Or that I matter far more than I think.

I spend each day before a sheet of glass:
Pinching my sides, ******* in, sticking out, padding down- not looking into my soul, not seeing its beauty, forever unknowing that I am a gift.

My green-gray eyes are a filter for reality;
All I see is a black and white promise:
Of pretty equaling worth,
Of attention equaling happiness-

Envy feeds me better than food.