he spreads me open and carves me from the inside out with his fingers while telling me im pretty
i tell myself he cant see that im crying
its dark in his van anyways
time moved on
but i didnt
yet another boy tells me im pretty with the lights on and tears streaming
i think im just meant to be sad
why else would this compliment feel so hand crafted
like they picked my lowest times to tell me how beautiful my pain looks
why else would i be so pretty when i cry