I looked at you like an empty house-
With eyes of smashed glass and lungs made of empty window frames.
You made me feel new.
Applied a fresh coat of paint,
Beautiful and chip free.
But all you did was cover the old,
Cracking foundation.

If I was beautiful,
Then it's true that beauty is only skin deep.
Maybe I could be pretty inside too,
Except you never tried to paint those parts of me-
You never explored deeper than my body.

You roamed my curves like bends in a road,
The dips of my collarbones and hips becoming your home.
You were never one to drive carefully,
But you always managed to avoid me.

You ran at the first sign of a flaw,
Leaving me with some peeling paint and a flood to drown myself in.