You don't tell me I'm pretty
But some guy named Andy did.
I don't know him.
He messaged me on Facebook.
I told you that my boss is a ****.
I cried for an hour.
You told me that I "complain too much"
But 13 people "liked" what I had to say.
I long for human connection in a time
where we only connect our fingers to a keyboard.
We can talk to thousands of people
at the push of a button.
but that access has seemed to only push us
deeper into ourselves.
Away from others.
we see their picture in the corner,
the words they post
after half an hour of good thought, no doubt
but we don't know them
nor do we care to.
But boys message girls telling them that they are cute
hoping to fulfill some sort of fantasy that we both know
will never actually happen
But what does that matter.
They would never say it to their face,
which they probably wouldn't recognize in the first place.
And you are the proof.
As you sit here before me
Staring blankly into my eyes
Unable to tell me I'm pretty.