I feel like it must be confusing
To read my rambling thoughts
Different boys, one for every stanza
They decorate this page
Like pin-up dolls with ruffled hair
Deceiving in their beauty,
deceiving with their pretty mouths and prettier words
And yet I feel that I should explain...
There are three.
The source of my longing. Undiluted, irrefutable, infatuated, beauty.
The source of all my pain. Superficial, overrated, conceited, killer.
The source of my small tendrils of hope. Unknown, undiscovered, sweet as candy, lover.