You look at me like you're dreaming.
Like I'm your personal Jesus.
Like I've been sent to begin you,
to start you again.
You look at me like I'm a ray of sun,
like you've never seen something so
transcendental.
Like, 'I could die right now.'
Why?
Why am I that to you?
How can I be that to you?
I'm not that.
I'm pretty, but not Natalie Portman,
smart, but not Stephen Hawking,
kind, but not Mother Theresa,
talented, but not YoYo Ma.
So why are you looking at me like that?




Quit looking at me like that.